


I'm haunted by an asshole

by TechnologicalPigeons



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adult Themes, Alternate Universe, Angst, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Everyone Is Gay, FtoM pidge, Galaxy Garrison, Gay Keith (Voltron), Ghost Keith (Voltron), Haunted Houses, Hunk (Voltron) is so Pure, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, Keith and Shiro are Siblings, Keith has given up on haunting, Keith is kind of an asshole, Lance (Voltron) is Tired, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance is constantly in denial, M/M, Male Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Modern Era, Pidge | Katie Holt is Savage, Pining Keith (Voltron), School, Trans Pidge | Katie Holt, again these guys are teenagers, coran and shiro are teachers, garrison is a flight school fight me, ghost au, ghost character, its minor but its there, keith is an asshole, keith is super bored, klance, lance lives in a haunted house, like seriously i glaze over it it shouldnt trigger anyone, mentions of a school shooting but nothing explit, pidge is skeptical, shiro's mucles, some kinky shit is mentioned, these guys are teenagers what do you expect, yall probably hate me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-02-23 06:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13183890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechnologicalPigeons/pseuds/TechnologicalPigeons
Summary: Lance has finally got into the school of his dreams; Galaxy Garrison. In order to attend the said school he moves out with his sister into an abandoned house after and "incident" occurred five years ago. Thinking little of it he notices weird things happening in his room, after a busy first day at school Lance realizes. He is being haunted by the biggest asshole ever.





	1. Ghosts seem to like drawers and christmas lights

Finally, Lance had made it into the notorious Garrison high school. Why was this school important? It was a one-way ticket into flight school. Lance had always wanted to fly, and with the Garrison being so desperate for students he had a great chance at getting in. Once you finish Garrison High, you could be moved to The Galaxy Garrison where all the research and flight took place, granted the Galaxy Garrison was literally attached to the school. Basically the school gave you a certain amount off classes depending on your experience, Lance was lucky enough to have only 2 classes that were primarily about safety. Lance had wanted this forever, and to get were he was now he had to move from his comfy home to this really fucking old place with his sister. His sister only offered to move in with him because he wasn’t a legal adult yet, but Lance knew that she would be gone ninety percent of the time.

The house was beautiful and still somehow modern, as Lance could tell from the outside. It was a pale brown with tall doors and a nice spot for a garden. The back was big and tree filled with train tracks at the end of the property that intersected the road. As the door opened leading Lance and his sister inside they could both tell it had been a while since people had lived here. Who knew five years could make such an impact. Shelves where coated in a thin layer of dust as well as couch covers and cabinets. Lance was enthralled by the big kitchen that had the living room directly in front of it and the dining room to the side. A set of stairs led up to the bedrooms with a railing so you could view the large conjoined room that made up the majority of the first floor.  
Lance was in awe and the amazing, and the rent wasn’t nearly as expensive as he had expected. The landlord really wanted to get this home off their hands.

“Melody!” Lance yelled from the upstairs over look, “This house is so nice! Do you see the sheer amount of space here? It’s amazing”  
Melody laughed as her younger brother fawned over the place, “Less crowded then with mom for sure. You going to help me unpack or just stand there?” She found her way out the door again to presumably find the small amount of boxes that would need to be unpacked before the weekend was up, not that it really mattered because Lance had school tomorrow anyway. Lance watched as she exited the house before he explored the upstairs some more. Behind him there where two doors and an open doorframe. Through the doorframe Lance saw a small sitting room with a bunch of cabinets and junk in it. The behind the doors where bedrooms. The first one was bigger and second one had a bathroom connected to it; Lance picked the latter. 

Unpacking was weird because Lance had to take the boxes out of the moving van, set them on the porch, then clean the house. Melody helped too, she was the one who had stated that there was way too much dirt and dust to live healthily there so it only made sense. Lance separated from his sister and opted to clean the upstairs first. The room that he had chosen was the smaller one with the conjoined bathroom. Back at home lance had to share a bathroom with all of his siblings, as well as his room with some of them, so he was really enjoying this home at the moment. Another yell from his sister reminded him to get to work and the two began to clean.

“Hey, Melody, how long do you think this home has been empty?” Lance asks as he meets up with his sister downstairs. He knew she had pretty much all the info there was on this house, but he doubted she remembered.  
“Uh,” she started, “five years? The owner moved out after an incident happened, but I’m not sure what that incident was, apparently it wasn’t big enough to release to us.”  
“That’s ok!” Lance chimed, “I was just wondering. This place is so cool I just don’t know how someone could leave such a nice place for so long.”  
“It’s kind of in shambles Lance, “she laughed, “and you are just used to living in a small space with a million siblings. I bet that you would be just fine living in a one room apartment.”  
Lance smiled at that, but quickly covered it up so she wouldn’t see. Instead he faked astonishment and complained that “he had standards” which resulted in a broom being thrown at him and a bunch of startled Spanish erupting from the younger sibling.

The house really wasn’t as bad as Melody has said, Lance figured out shortly. Most of it Melody had already cleaned, which Lance was very thankful for, and he had already mostly gotten the upstairs finished. Even with it not being so bad, weren’t houses supposed to be cleaned before they were sold? They were also probably supposed to fix all the broken stuff, but Melody said that the sink dripping was from it not being used for a long time.

The cleaning continued until around five in the evening when the siblings both opted that the house was safe to live in. Lance hauled his stuff up the stairs and sat it down in his chosen room. It had cleaned up quite nice, and the room looked more modern then it had post-cleaning. The bed was a simple twin bed that Lance could lay on without his feet hanging over the edge. There was a simple window with a window seat looking out on the backyard, basic dressers with a shallow book shelf above it. The bathroom was basic and had a mirror, some drawers, toilet and a stand in shower; the bathroom almost exactly resembled the bathroom back at home, but now Lance had it all to himself! To anyone else, they would probably think that the room is really not that big, but Lance was still in awe of all the space that was now “his”, and that Melody let him have it. At the same time, it made sense because Melody would be too busy working to stay in her room much. His older sister, always trying to put others before herself; also if she had taken this room Lance probably would have fought her so that’s probably why she gave it up so easily.

Humming happily at his new room and excitement Lance pulls out his headphones and begins to un pack, happily humming along with his music. Storing all of his clothes, making the bed to the best of his ability, and putting his skin care products in the bathroom along with the small amount of makeup he owned for “emergencies”. Lance prided himself in having the best looking skin, and if something went wrong he had makeup to help. He tried to stay away from it though because make up clogs pores and he wants nothing to do with that if he doesn’t need it.

Returning from the bathroom, Lance was met with a weird sight; all of the drawers where open. Lance shook his head in disbelief, he was positive that he had closed them all! Even the ones he hadn’t put anything in were opened! He took a moment and plopped on the bed rubbing his eyes. What the fuck was that? He thought as he assessed the drawers. It didn’t make any sense… wait, what.  
Lance’s eyes widened as a drawer slowly wiggled it’s way open and suddenly flew out of the dresser. Lance screeched and jumped up from the bed and down the stairs. He was horrendously freaked out, did stuff like that normally happen or? He looked for a moment looking for Melody, he couldn’t find her so he presumed that she was in her room, witch as the moment wasn’t very comforting. The clock read 12am.  
Lance slept on the couch.

The sun streamed through the living room window, posing as a gentle alarm clock. The sky had few clouds despite one’s obscured vision by all the trees in the neighborhood. It was a beautiful day that anyone would have been happy to wake up to; Lance on the other hand was woken up by the screeching sound of his phone’s alarm from upstairs.

The teen scrambled off the couch in alarm and rushed up the stairs to silence the dreadful noise. He had almost entirely forgotten about the self-opening drawers until he reached the room to find them all closed. Was he just hallucinating? Was he hallucinating last night? Lance only became more confused when he realized that all of his bags and boxes where shoved from the middle of the floor to under the bed. Lance didn’t have time for this, he had already made the mistake of moving in to the house the day before classes, but now he had to deal with all of this freaky shit. Lance hoped he was just freaking out; if he wasn’t then he must be high on something. Maybe the guys who lived here before him smoked fucking space mushrooms or some shit and the stuff stuck around for five years. Yea, it was completely outrageous, but Lance needed something to calm himself with.

Despite the strange room, the morning went relatively smoothly. Melody had left to go to some job interviews and Lance had somehow made it on the bus. He really needed to invest in a car, that would make things so much easier. The Garrison was very big and could be easily mistaken for a very prestigious college. The campus was amazing with small statues of planes all over, there was a separate building for dorm rooms, and the main building was filled with classrooms. Connected to the building was a sky bridge that led to the flight simulators and flight hangers. Lance was loving it, his dream was right in front of him.

He would first start off with two classes on flight training and safety and all that stuff, it was required for newbies to make sure they actually knew what they were getting into. After those classes semesters were over he would go into actual flight simulators! Lance could hardly contain his excitement as he walked into the first class.  
He was met with rows of tables and a teacher with a bizarre mustache that was orange just like his hair, he seemed to be around fifty, maybe less, but Lance didn’t have the patience to analyze, and there really wasn’t much more to see then what Lance got at a first glance. He sat down next to a large Samoan teen and behind a smaller person with round glasses; let the classes begin he thought to himself, smile never fading.

“Alright class! I am Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, but you can call me Coran!” The mustached man announced from the front of the class. “I will be your teacher for quite a while, so try to stay on my good side, which is my left.” He joked, twirling his moustache. Lance was beginning to like the guy, he didn’t seem very strict and had more of a playful attitude. He looked like the kind of guy to work at Starbucks and try to get you to buy one of those fancy ass Frappuccino’s, and succeed.

He continued on into the actual class info while adding some fun comments about his past witch really broke the strict atmosphere that most students expected. Soon enough the class was over and there was an hour break between the classes two classes that the students would have. Coran passed out papers that gave the over view off assignments along with additional information for reference. A lot of the students where chilling in the classroom while others went off to find their friends or vending machines. 

Just as Lance was going to get out of his seat to go find some food, the round glasses kid spun around in their seat facing Lance and the larger guy next to him.  
“Hi!” The kid chirped, “My name is Katie, but everyone calls me Pidge because I hate my original name and if you ever call me that I will turn you in for abuse. Might as well get to know each other while we have the same class for the next however long.” Lance smiled at the boy, girl? He was actually really unsure and was kind of intimidated, but that didn’t stop him from responding. “Hey I’m Lance, everyone calls me sharpshooter.” He states as he places his hand under his chin with his finger and his thumb in the shape of an L. The Samoan next to him casually introduces himself as Hunk witch Lance finds adorable. Pidge looks back over at Lance and gives a frown.  
“You’re a lesbian?”  
“What??” Lance screeches, “No! Where did that come from?” He questions, confused on how the child in front of him got “Lesbian” out of “Sharpshooter”. Pidge gives a confused look, and then just laughs and quickly says never mind after realizing something that Lance still didn’t understand. That Hunk guy also seemed mildly confused, but less then Lance was.  
Lance quickly turns to Hunk and smiles, “Hey, Hunk. You, me, best bros? What do you say? We could make a good team?” Lance jokes as Hunk was even more confused from what Lance could see, but he seemed to quickly realize Lance’s plan to exclude Pidge. “How old are you anyway?” Lance questions Hunk, “Because I’m seventeen, I don’t think that you are twenty-five, but if you are that’s cool.” Hunk laughs again, “Same bro, I’m seventeen.” Lance could see Pidge’s stares as the two high five out of victory for being the same age, it really wasn’t a big deal, it was just fun. Also they had known each other for less than five minutes so they might as well get to know the other.  
“Well,” Pidge finally piped up, “I’m fourteen so does that make me smarter then you two?” Lance’s jaw dropped. “How do you get in at fourteen? How is that even possible? You are like, a fetus!”  
“Yeah!” Hunk agrees, “It took forever for me to get here, how did you get in so young?”  
“Actually I was going to try and get in at thirteen, but they wouldn’t allow me so this year I hacked into the system, changed my name and gender, made an entrance letter and health record for the systems and made it seem like this new kid had been in the system the entire time. It worked, there was nothing wrong with my info, but I was caught in the office and I was basically kicked out. If it wasn’t for my dad I would probably be in Juvie. “Pidge explained with a sigh, “It was such a good plan too.” He mumbled.  
“Wait, who is your dad then?” Hunk questions.  
“Sam Holt.”  
“Hunk, we have the child of one of the smartest men on earth and they could probably rewrite our entire history.” Lance whispered.  
“So… what do we do?”  
“Befriend him! Or her…them?” Lance got lost and realized he had no clue what the gender was of this child. Looking up at Pidge expectantly he got a smirk in return.  
“Science.”  
“That doesn’t help!!”  
Lance quickly finds out that these people where really cool. Hunk was the same age as him, a mechanic, and a chef. Those are the only things Lance wants in a best bro, he also seemed super cuddly witch was a plus, if Lance somehow ended up single at forty then he was going to marry Hunk. Pidge was an unidentified super computer which could come in handy. What was even better was that they were all in the next class together as well! That seemed to surprise everyone but Pidge, who casually stated that he had already known. He had also revealed that he was, in fact, a male which was great for Lance because he didn’t think he could identify a child as science with a straight face.  
This class was run by a younger, but very well built man of the name Takashi Shirogone. Aka, the fucking pride of Garrison. Lance pretty much swooned when he walked through the door and Pidge looked so unimpressed. He was more on par with what students expected from the classes. He was serious, but in a non-threatening way. Lance’s first thought was that he wanted Takashi to be his dad, Pidge quickly shuts him up though. 

The day goes by great with Lance quickly adopting Hunk as his bro, and making fun of Pidge. Lance was mostly amazed at how they really had absolutely nothing in common, but still managed to work ok together. Not great, not good, but ok. The last thing they should probably be is a team when the actual flying commences; that might be a blood bath. Lance is typically all for friends working together, but they would end up destroying something. He is typically labeled as oblivious, obnoxious, not the brightest, the list goes on and on, but he is intelligent! How else did he get into this school? Lance knows he goofs around a lot, but he knows when a group won’t work well together. But hey! They could all be friends, hopefully.

“Ok, but did you see Takashi’s muscles? Like holy hell I would let him strangle me.” Lance rants as Hunk pretends not to listen. Pidge makes a face, “Seriously Lance? That’s a little kinky.”  
“I could have been talking about his thighs, I bet those are even better.”  
“Does anyone have brain bleach? I need a gallon to burn that image out of my mind.”  
“Yeah, I think I need that too.” Hunk agrees. “Not to mention he’s like, way older then you.” Pidge gives a small laugh at that, “Only by thirteen years, I’m sure that’s not pedophilia.”  
“Oh my god Pidge no!” Lance protests, “I can just except that fact that some men are very attractive, I don’t actually want him to strangle me! Plus, that would be murder.” Lance insists hoping that they wouldn’t see though his blatant lie. He wouldn’t want to die from it… Pidge piped up casually, “Oh I just assumed that you were into that.” Lance did everything he could to hide his red face, but his attempts where in vain for nothing got past Pidge.

The house was quiet as Lance arrived from the obnoxious bus ride, Melody was probably still out in town getting food and other necessities. Lance still felt a little uneasy after last night, but he told himself if anything weird happened again then the house was haunted. Having a haunted house wasn’t that bad, right? He was told that an incident happened here, but it wasn’t that important so no one was murdered; probably. He just kept his eyes peeled as he walked up the stairs and looked over the balcony to see if anything was out of place. If the ghost was a normal ghost then it would do anything to get the occupants out, Lance confirms with himself, if the ghost wanted them out then he would attack the obvious spots. So far the ghost has only been in my room… He looks over at his closed bedroom door. If anything was different, there was a ghost. If everything is fine, then he’s hallucinating. Cautiously he opens the door…

Holy fuck his room is haunted and he hates everything about this ghost.

Many of the drawers were placed on the shallow shelf above the dresser and scattered randomly about, the bed sheets had been removed and folded, all of his clothes where color coordinated and scattered around the room in random, neatly folded, piles; it doesn’t even stop there. His miscellaneous bag had been emptied and appeared to be in a state of distress as if one had tried to organize the shit in there and then completely gave up. The window seat was stacked with pillows and blankets shaped in some kind of throne along with the few books Lance had brought. Finally, to top off the insanity that was now his room, all of the Christmas lights that Lance and his sister had brought where hung from the ceiling in sweeping motions, which would have been cool if the rest of them weren’t wrapped around his fucking mattress.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Lance mumbles, dropping his bag on the ground and covering his face. After rubbing his eyes several times and confirming that he wasn’t just going crazy (again, it seemed to be a theme in the past forty-eight hours) he actually entered the room to assess any real damage. To his surprise nothing had been broken or damaged in any way. It didn’t seem like the ghost wanted him out, it just wanted to annoy him? Lance thought that ghosts only wanted things to themselves and never wanted to be bothered, but with the pillow throne on the window seat it seemed that it was just having fun. Really Lance was just salty about having to clean all of this up.

“Hey ghost person!” Lance shouts, “clearly you’ve got a problem with me, now I will try not to mess with you as long as you don’t throw a crazy stunt like this again.” He says as he points to the drawers and the light wrapped bed. “I’m totally fine with you sorting my clothes, but seriously this is just an asshole move.” Lance sighs as takes a moment to stare at the window seat throne. Out of all the ghosts that could have been in his house, the last one he wanted was an asshole. Now he doesn’t even have a valid reason to leave. It’s not like he can say, “Hey Melody let’s move out because there is a ghost who is a really big asshole who is haunting me.” It’s such a dumb statement, but its sadly accurate.

During Lance’s cleaning, he continued to glance over at the pillow throne in hopes of seeing any movement. Begrudgingly he never saw any movement making him think that the ghost had left the room. His thoughts were luckily interrupted as his phone starts flashing showing that he had a new notification.

Pidge has started a group chat with Lance and Hunk  
Pidge named the group chat “Garrison failures”  
Pidge: Sup nerds  
Lance: if anyones the nerd its going to b u  
Pidge: Apparently I am because I have the mentality to type out 2 letter words  
Lance: rude  
Hunk: we kind of all qualify as nerds since we are all going to garrison.  
Pidge: Thank you hunk, that was what I was going for  
Lance: no u wernt  
Pidge: I will fight you lance jesus  
Hunk: For a bunch of nerds, none of you guys seem to remember how sentences work.  
Hunk: I’m going to buy you guys a dictionary.  
Lance: thnx pigee really needs it  
Pidge has changed the group chat name to “Y’all need jesus and a dictionary”  
Hunk: accurate

Lance smiled at his screen as Hunk and Pidge began talking about their history with English classes. It was a random topic for a bunch of trainee piolets to be talking about, but it worked with the three of them. He sat his phone down on the floor and listened to the buzz of messages come though as he detangles the Christmas lights wrapped around his mattress. They were wounded around the mattress and bed frame causing the whole situation to be just a little easier. He pulled the bed away from the wall and began unraveling.

Pigeon: I know two languages! Of course one of them isn’t orally spoken but who cares  
HunkOfSunshine: That’s cool.  
HunkOFSunshine: what language is not orally spoken?  
Sharpshooter: Nice name changes  
Pigeon: They are accurate  
Sharpshooter: Do you guys believe in ghosts?  
HunkOfSunshine: YEs  
Pigeon: Hellz no  
Sharpshooter: Well I think my house is haunted.  
Pigeon: I swear if your sink is leaking im going to cry.  
Sharpshooter: Well its not only that  
Sharpshooter: it messes with my stuff  
Pigeon: you sure u arnt messing with your stuff?  
Sharpshooter: Why r u like this  
Pigeon: im skeptical of u  
Pigeon: why u lie  
HunkOfSunshine: Ok what even pidge? Also ghosts are freaky can we stop talking about them?  
Sharpshooter: Why do u not believe me?  
Pigeon: s c e p t I c a l  
Sharpshooter: I hate you  
HunkOfSunshine: don’t insult the child  
Pigeon: R U d e lance

By this time the room had been restored to somewhat normal ways. The ghost had actually done a lot of Lance’s work for him. All of his clothes where folded, he had some neat decorations going on due to the lights he didn’t take down. It wasn’t so bad, but lastly Lance needed to dismantle the throne that he had yet to touch. It may have been all of his stuff thrown half hazardly into a vague shape of a chair, but he still felt uneasy about touching it.  
As quick as he could he snatched a pillow from it and waited….

Nothing happened.

That was enough validation for Lance to know that the ghost was no longer there or going to hurt him if he moved the stuff. The day had been chaotic and tiring and Lance was very thankful when Melody came home with food. As he ate he wondered, who was haunting him and why did it not want him gone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote about 2000 words and I decided to go back and make sure I didn't make any mistakes, by the time I got to the end I had written another 1000 words. I wasn't even a fourth done with my planned chapter. So this is only about half of the chapter I had planned (yes I had a plan, I'm going to do this fanfic right damnit.) So next chapter will be out soon, but I'm am trying to stay ahead of myself.
> 
> Also please make fanart of this if you do I'll love you forever. I really want to see fanart of the chaos in Lance's room. (If you do make fanart link it to me in the comments section and ill put it in the next chapter and the chapter it goes with : ) )  
> -RANDOM DISCLAIMERS/ INFO-  
> -I have zero clue how flight schools work, I tried to look it up but I really couldn't find anything.  
> -You don't have to disclose if someone dies in a house when you are selling it, so that's why they don't have much info.  
> -voltron doesn't belong to me but this story does : )  
> KUDOS ARE NICE BUT COMMENTS MAKE ME VERY HAPPY AND GIVE ME MOTIVATION  
> Love ya'll have a good morning/night/evening/ <3


	2. Traumatic events and a lesson on Ghost hunting materials

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three learn about past events at the Garrison that shake their beliefs on the perfect that Garrison was suppose to be , while Lance manages to make the ghost hate him more then he hated the ghost.  
> Featuring: A long lesson from Pidge, the master of ghost hunting tech.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some mentions of a past school shooting in here! If that makes you uncomfortable then you can skip past it, there are dashes at the beginning segment and at the end so just skip to under the last segment. There is a brief overview of that segment in the ending notes because it is crucial to the plot. But just so you know, nothing explicit is mentioned, though some may be uncomfortable with it.

It had been about a week since Lance had started learning at Garrison and moved into the new house. From what he has noticed, it’s haunted.

And this ghost really likes Lance’s stuff.

After the first day of drawers being placed in random places and Christmas lights, Lance figured out quite a few things about this ghost. Number one: Nothing Lance did could stop him from moving his stuff. Number two: Lance had to give up half of his pillows and blankets to the window seat or else the ghost wouldn’t stop taking them. Number three: That ghost really likes organizing things. Number four: It primarily only messed with Lance’s stuff, and number five: It was always watching Lance.

Lance had been aware of what being watched is like from his many younger siblings who would hide around and watch Lance; a game that they played a lot, if Lance caught them then he would chase them around the house and that would typically get mamma frustrated at him. But this ghost was constantly watching him, typically from the window seat. At first it was super weird, but after about two days of it Lance almost didn’t notice.

What he did notice was that this ghost wasn’t very social. Whenever Lance would try speaking to it all he got in response was something going wrong such as the lights flickering. At first Lance thought that meant he was listening, but when he talked more the ghost just turned the lights off and began unplugging everything from the outlets. Clearly, this ghost was an asshole. At least it wasn’t throwing things at him yet; for some reason Lance figured that would start happening soon.

Alongside his shitty ass ghost roommate, no one believed him when Lance mentioned that his house was haunted. Melody laughed at him, Hunk freaks out, and Pidge just squints and him and asks for proof. Even if Lance brought proof the chances that Pidge would actual believe him still weren’t that high. Lance would probably just have to live with it until the ghost busters come to his house because they detected paranormal activity. Ha, if only.

That day Lance slugged into class piquing the interest of his friends. Lance was not having a good morning by anyone’s standards and Pidge was going to probably interrogate him for it. Surprise surprise, just has he sat down the pigeon started chirping; well to lance it sounded like death just because he knew that when Pidge found out what happened he would never hear the end of it.

“Hey Lance, you look really tired.” Pidge inquired. “Yeah you really do, you ok buddy?” Hunk agrees. Lance just shook his head and laughs.

“No, I am not ok. This morning I had to prevent the bathroom from flooding because my house is haunted by the biggest asshole known to man!” Lance yells looking Pidge dead in the eye. “Now I know what you’re going to say, ‘ghosts aren’t real blah, blah, blah’ but I am so tired of dealing with this thing and having no one believe me!”

“Well…” Pidge started, “I do have some ghost trackers that we can use. They are supposed to pick up radioactive signals that could represent paranormal activity…”  
Lance gapped at Pidge as he continued rambling on about the tech, “Wait, wait, wait, wait-“ He cuts him off, “YOU were one asking for proof when you had a machine that could do that??”  
“Well, yeah. I kind of just assumed you were wanting attention or something.”

Hunk looked unimpressed at the both of them as Pidge started going off again on all of the things Lance could have done to prove that there was a ghost in him home. Lance just sat there, head in his hands and refrained from screaming. These where the people he decided to spend his time with.

Oh god, has he made a mistake.

Coran started the class with a smile and started going over safety procedure, which there were a lot of. We had been told that half of the lessons were going to be on safety, at least Coran seemed to be happy about teaching students how to evacuate in event of an emergency.  
-  
“Now you guys are probably all thinking, why would a disastrous event happen here?” Coran said, “It seems a little intense for a non-natural chaotic event to happen at a very serious school, but it has happened.” Everyone noticed when Coran became incredibly serious, he put his hands behind his back and looked into the array of students with a small frown. “Only five years ago, which really wasn’t as long ago as people think, there was a school shooting, names will not be mentioned, but sometimes people aren’t ok. We had no clue that it would happen, but it did and it was too late by the time we found out. Luckily we stopped the student before too much happened and most of the students were evacuated; some still died, some still were injured. So we have to be cautious about events like this, that’s why I’m telling you this story and how you should react in case it happens again. “  
-  
“Now this isn’t a story you should throw around and mention to everyone you meet! Many professors such as myself and Professor Shirogane were at the school when it happened. Events like this are why we have so many safety protocols. Please respect them and if you ever need help please get one of the Professors or tell the office.”

The room was in dead silence as Coran continued on safety protocols, much tenser then when class had started. He didn’t seem to be a fan of talking about the subject. As the class ended and students were quietly exiting the room, Pidge turned around and spoke to the two shook boys behind him. Lance looked sympathetic at Pidge’s distressed face, he didn’t look very happy; that story put everyone in gloom.

“My brother was here when it happened.” He said, earning surprised looks from Lance and Hunk. “I was nine when it happened, but my brother was horrified. Apparently none of the Professors have been the same since then.”  
“Well it makes sense!” Hunk adds, “Who would be ok after a shooting? But anyway, let’s not talk about this, ok?” He frets. “No use talking about something that we can’t do anything about, right?”  
Lance silently agreed with Hunk; things like this were serious and Lance was too tired to really comment on it.

In Takashi’s class a lot of students from the last class seemed on edge, that included Pidge. The Professor looked fine, he just continued teaching as if nothing was wrong. Lance figured that there was something Pidge was hiding with all of the newfound info- for some reason he believed it had something to do with his ghost roommate and that shooting.

Lance arrived home to an empty house again, well, if you don’t count the ghost. As soon as Lance took his shoes off, he knew something was wrong. There was a noise. Walking into under the balcony he listened. It took a moment; it was coming from upstairs… was it… water?

“SHIT”.

Lance dropped his stuff and bolted up the stairs and into his bathroom to find the sink just about to over flow. Quickly grabbing the handle, he turned it off and held it there as a few splashes of water made it over the edge and on the floor. Clearly the water had just been turned on a moment ago, and the rest of the room hadn’t been tampered with except for the pile of stuff that the ghost had claimed in the window seat; there were now a few pens littered in the mess. It was as if the ghost had last minute turned on the sink to cause chaos. Did he forget that he hated Lance or something?  
“Ok!” Lance yelled as he walked into the center of his room, “You and I, whoever you are, are going to get along. That means, no trying to flood my room, no random freak out attacks where you throw random shit around my room, try to be a little civil ok? Now you and I are going to somehow communicate.” He sighs and laughs a little as the fact that he is talking to a “ghost” who is haunting him in the worst possible way.

Trying to remain casual, Lance carefully placed a notebook in the center of the floor along with some pencils. Please work, please work, please work, he silently prayed. “So this is how we are going to talk, you are going to write in the notebook and I am going to respond to that. Is that too much for you?”

No response; nothing moved.

“How about, I give you a moment ok?” Lance says as he runs his fingers through his hair in exhaustion. He’s stuck with this thing, and if it has any morality it will do something, even if that something is tearing the notebook to shreds. Lance exited the room and waited. After a minute or two he was met with an interesting sight.

The notebook had been moved from the center of the floor to the window seat with broken pencils scattered around the room. A few of the recently stolen pens were rolling around as if they had been dropped in a hurry. One pen sat on top of the open notebook; the pen was red and the notebook was empty.

“Well at least that’s a start?” Lance questioned as he sat on the floor facing the window. “Are you ever going to write anything, or? At least give me some proof that you are listening.” Lance begged. He was again, met with silence.

Randomly, Lance closed his eyes and waited. If this ghost didn’t wasn’t him to see anything, then Lance wouldn’t look. He quickly regretted that decision when he opened his eyes after a minute to see a pen fly past his head. Either this thing was listening and was continuing to fuck with him instead of giving solid answers, or it didn’t speak English. One things for sure is that it was definitely not a Spanish speaker for it had no respect for Lances music. Seriously the ghost almost broke his phone once! But then again Pidge had tried to do the same thing.

Officially Lance had given up for the day. He had tried to communicate several times in various different ways. He even went as far enough to try Morse code; as if ghosts would know that. Lance was just really tired. His roommate was a ghost whom he knows nothing personal about. What he does know is that is ghost doesn’t like him enough to communicate, but is considerate enough to not mess with Melody? Actually, no. Nothing made sense. He had tried and he failed; if this ghost was going to be an ass, then Lance was going to be the same right back at it.

Lance lounged on his bed, the mess of paper and broken pencils still on the floor. Lance has opted to still wear his blue and white baseball T and a pair of black boxers. He had a review essay due on Monday and he decided the best time to start working on that is when you are stressed out by a ghost. The only apparent noise was the soft clacking of Lance’s laptop as the rest of the room remained still. Lance was waiting for something to happened, this ghost would never let Lance concentrate before so there was no way it would let him today.

Sure enough, as Lance grabbed his backpack from the floor to get his notes, two pens went flying across the room and hit the wall behind where Lance had been. He blinked slowly at the window where the flying projectiles had come from. This thing wasn’t even trying.

Lance looked back down at his computer, contemplated continuing on his essay, then roughly closing the laptop and looking where he presumed the ghost was; typically, that was the window seat and that was where the pens had come from. He was going to give this ghost a piece of his mind whether it wants it or not.  
“So, clearly you don’t want me dead,” Lance started, “Clearly you don’t have the will to actually wreck my stuff to the fullest potential so I am forced to leave. Instead you last minute do something that I can easily prevent when I get home. Like, honestly, the meanest thing you’ve probably done was rapidly turn on the sink this morning and try to flood it, but even that seemed half assed!” Lance admitted with a sigh. He was raising his voice a little now, this thing needed to hear how bad it was at haunting. “And with the communication today? That was really disappointing. You spent your time breaking the goddamn pencils! Who does that? You throw things at me after I move, but never when I’m actually in that spot. You steal my stuff, but those items are the ones I don’t need! I might have a million pillows and shit, but I don’t need all of them. Did you think you were a burden?” Lance shouted, standing from his bed. He was so fed up with this ghost, he didn’t even care who this thing was. He just wanted an answer; probably the last thing he will ever be given.

Lance covered his face in his hands and started to stutter out words, “Y-“ he sighed, “You’re an asshole.” Lance said as he lowered himself to the ground. “No one must have liked you when you were alive. Hell, that would make sense because I don’t even like you, and you’re dead! Who could ever love someone like you?” Lance whispered. There was no response; everything was quiet.

The ghost wasn’t watching him anymore.

The next day was strange, not in a bad way, but it was just weirdly normal. Lance kept his eyes peeled for any signs of trickery such as flying objects and running water; to his surprise nothing happened. Lance went the entire morning without having to deal with any of the ghost’s bullshit. Now most people called that a good thing, but for Lance it only caused anxiety. The ghost was back in the room, but it wasn’t watching him. A few things would occasionally roll across the floor as if someone had gently kicked them, but other than that the ghost just sat there in the window. The room became colder than it had been the night before.

At the Garrison classes had been changed a little. Coran’s class had been canceled due to Coran having to teach the upper classmen some safety rules again. Apparently someone wrecked the simulator, how does one even do that? But instead of to his class, everyone went to their second class witch was Takashi’s. As per usual, both Pidge and Hunk were already there before Lance.  
“So… someone wrecked the simulator.” Hunk casually mentioned as Lance get seated. “Yeah, that’s what Lance is going to be doing.” Pidge laughed. “Wrong!” Lance chimed, “They call me the tailor because of how I thread the needle.”  
“I thought they called you sharpshooter?”  
“Well I’m called a lot of things Hunk.”  
“He’s also called a Russian Doll.” Pidge adds.  
“Um, whys that?” Lance inquires. Pidge looks over his glasses and raises am eyebrow.  
“Because you’re full of yourself.”  
“C’mon Pidge!” Lance wined.  
“It’s not like I’m wrong!” Pidge continues, “You talk about yourself constantly, but it’s almost as if none of it is true. Also speaking of fake, how is your ghost friend doing?” He quickly adds.  
“Number one, that thing is not my friend. Number two, he threw things at me as I was working on that essay Coran assigned!”  
“Woah.” Both friends responded with.  
“Oh, I’m not ‘woahing’ at the ghost.” Pidge corrected, “I’m just amazed that Lance McClain does homework.”  
“Pidge you are the worst person ever.”  
“What’s going on here?”  
The three looked over the side of the table to see Professor Takashi standing there with a small smile. “The only things I really caught was something about a ghost and Lance actually doing work, so I was intrigued.” He continued and Lance buried his head in his hands.  
“Hi Shiro.”  
“Hi Pidge.”  
“Anyway,” Pidge starts, “Lance moved here from some random place that no one cares about- “  
“Rude!” Lance adds, causing the other to stick his tongue out at him.  
“- But anyway he moved here and now he has a ghost roommate.”  
“A ghost roommate?” Shiro inquires. “How do you have a ghost roommate?” He questions Lance.  
“Funny story actually, I moved in and there was a ghost.”

Lance received and unimpressed look from Shiro and Lance just shrugs. He didn’t know enough about the ghost to really complain. “The ghost is an asshole! It’s rude, It throws things at me, it takes my stuff; pretty much it does everything to annoy me but it hasn’t tried to make me leave yet. It’s very weird and I’m very tired of it.”  
Shiro laughs, it quite a happy laugh for some reason. “Well I’m just glad that you are doing your work, even if a ghost is throwing things at you.”  
“Don’t worry, it purposely misses.”  
“Ok then, that is very interesting. We should probably start class now...”  
Takashi, or apparently Shiro, seemed very intrigued by Lance’s “story”. He wasn’t sure why, but Shiro seemed very comfortable with idea of ghosts. He didn’t seem to care that Lance was being haunted by this mentally unstable ghost! He just laughed at it and walked away. Lance was suspicious… he was also starting to sound like Pidge and that needed to stop.  
Lance leaned forward and lightly tapped Pidge’s shoulder, gaining all of the smaller male’s attention despite the fact that he was still facing forward and pretending to take notes; lance had no clue how he could do that. 

“Hey Pidge. After class you should come over with your ghost technology and we can try to see where the ghost is.” He whispered behind Pidge’s shoulder. Luckily no one noticed; except for Hunk but he sat right there so… it was inevitable.  
“Don’t you mean to see if you’re crazy or not?” Pidge smirked, glancing back to see Lance’s unimpressed face. “It was worth a try,” Pidge shrugged, “but yeah I’ll meet you at your place, text me your address.”  
“Are we going to be Ghostbusters?” Questioned Hunk as he leaned into the conversation. He received a laugh from Pidge that ended the conversation. They would soon find out.  
Both Pidge and Hunk arrived at Lance’s place shortly after Pidge ran back to his place to get his fancy ghost technology. Something called a EDI, or EMF; Lance wasn’t positive at first the second Pidge walked through the door he started rambling. Hunk followed uneasily behind the younger one and gave a small shrug in apology to say that Pidge had been talking the entire way there.  
“You see the ATF detects cold spots, or very low temperatures that can be linked to paranormal activity. From all of my research on ghosts prior to arriving many say that when a ghost is around them it gets very cold.” Pidge explains adjusting his glasses.  
“That makes sense.” Lance agrees. But the ghost was always next to the window, the coldest part of his room. Even if the ghost wasn’t there, windows are typically colder. So was it trying to hide its presence or something?

Pidge casually continued with seemingly more excitement then previously, witch Hunk tried not to laugh at. To see a child such as Pidge be so excited about technology that could detect paranormal activity was just too much for his pure soul. “I also brought electromagnetic field detectors. It’s programed to detect changes in the electromagnetic field around the device!” Pidge exclaims happily. Lance could swear his eyes were shining. “Based on the EMF fluctuations detected the lights right here will change intensity; basically that means the more spooky it is the higher the reading will show.”  
“Thanks for the specification.”  
‘No problem. Also if the readings jump really high a speaker will sound to notify you. This is quite a popular ghost hunting tool. Now on the other hand the EDI is able to pick up the slightest movements and vibrations from the object its sitting on. Again if anything is triggered then the lights will increase intensity; by the way these are LED lights and they go from green to red. Green is good, red is bad, or good? Not quite sure what our exact motive is here.” He adds squinting at the machines he held. He quickly mentioned something else along the lines of batteries and 150 hours but Lance missed most of that.  
“Both devices detect ghosts; if light is green then we are good, if light is red then there is a ghost, right?” Hunk inquired. Lance knew Hunk had an idea of what these machines were about, but he seemed really uneasy around ghosts. Anyway, Lance was just thankful for the clarification.

“We start in the kitchen, right?”  
“No.” Pidge snaps, “We start in Lance’s room because that is where all of the activity had been going on!”  
“Oh, ok. Sorry.” Hunk mumbles, he seemed more annoyed than anything else.

The group commenced up the stairs and entered Lance’s room. To his surprise nothing had been tampered with at all. Not even the throne of stuff the ghost had set up had been messed with. Everything was in place and untouched; it made Lance uneasy. Lance looked around and answered some of Pidge’s questions as they walked around the room with the devices. Lance noticed that his device seemed to constantly be in the yellow category witch was probably a side effect of the ghost spending almost all of its time in Lance’s room.

“Status on devices?” Pidge inquired.  
“It’s staying at yellow for the most part.” Hunk answers.  
“Yeah…” Lance agrees, but something was off. “Hey Pidge, check out the mess of pillows and shit by the window. Did you get anything from there?”  
“Nope! It was slightly colder over there, but that’s probably due to the cold leaking through the window. For sure there has been a ghost here,” He responds, pausing. “But he doesn’t seem to be here at the moment.” Hunk walked over to test his devices. He too, didn’t find much of a difference.

“But that so weird…” Lance mumbles as he turns around. “Something is off.” As soon as he said it he looked up and screams.

Right in front of him was the translucent frame of a teen. Black hair, navy eyes; Eyes that were staring right at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO YOU SEE WHAT I JUST DID? I POSTED ANOTHER 4000 WORD CHAPTER IN 2 DAYS.  
> This is what comments do guys. They give me freaking super powers.  
> Aside from that... actual notes.  
> -VERY BREIF SYNOPSIOUS OF SHOOTING-  
> Five years ago there was a shooting and people are uneasy about it.  
> (What did I tell ya?)  
> Anyway the reason I made this warning is because where I live there had been several shootings at nearby schools; the most recent being only 2 years ago and people are still shaken about that. There has also been bomb threats at both of the schools I have been to in the past year. I just want to be cautious for sensitive people.  
> -GHOST TECH AND STUFF-  
> I got all my info from here https://www.lessemf.com/ghost.html  
> I forgot to mention that these devices do activate near electronics, but that wasn't really a big deal. Also my sister walked in as I was researching and she took one look at my screen, walked out of my room, and then told her friends that her gay sibling was going to be the next ghostbuster. I just thought that was funny.
> 
>  
> 
> KUDOS ARE NICE BUT COMMENTS MAKE ME LOVE YOU FOREVER AND GIVE ME MOTIVATION. ALSO CHAPTERS REALLY FAST ; ) ; )


	3. Uncertanties and ghosts have nothing serious to say.

Sharp beeping noises went off and all of the machines spiked an insane amount. Everyone turned to Lance, who had dropped his device in shock and was trying to grasp exactly what happened. He had seen the ghost. He had finally seen who he had been living with and wreaking havoc ever since he moved in. That was the explanation to all of his troubles.

Was it bad that his mind was trying to make the scene a whole lot more threatening? 

Or maybe it’s like the difference between knowing you have a stalker and actually seeing the stalker, wait no, that’s a horrible relation. How was he just unable to get his mind wrapped around this? It all happened so fast…?

“Lance? Lance are you ok? Can you still speak?? Do we have to preform and exorcism??” Pidge yells as he runs over to Lance and starts shaking him out of his trance giving him only a mild headache.  
“Yeah… I’m fine.” Lance mumbles leaning onto Hunk for support. “But I finally saw my roommate, or otherwise known as the asshole of the ghost I have vaguely mentioned before.”

“Wait, you did? I thought it had just entered the room or something!” Hunk confessed looking around wildly.

“Radioactive signatures would not be that high if it had just entered the room. Clearly, this is an intelligent ghost; it knew we were here and what we were trying to do.” The smaller one exclaims, he adjusts his glasses and starts to fiddle with the controls on the EMS that he was holding. “I’m not sure how intelligent though because if it really was smart then it would have messed with the controls.”

“Well let’s just hope it isn’t that smart!” Hunk freaks, “The last thing I want is a freaky ghost finding out my social security number or something.” He shudders at the thought as Lance slowly shakes his head. These guys were thinking too much about the situation; what ghost would have the time or care to completely mess with stuff like that? Then again, the guy did wrap Christmas lights around his fucking bed; whether that’s a sign of intelligence or not, Lance had no idea.

“He is smart, Pidge.” Lance confirms, gaining the others attention again. “He is also pretty lazy. Unless he has to do something then he won’t do it. When I first moved in he did the typical ghost stuff for only a small amount of time. It was to verify that he was there, later he kept his distance until he realized that I was tired of him playing games. When I showed reluctance to really caring about him he resorted to “trying to get rid of me” in a not threatening way.” He states in air quotes. He had been trying to figure out the ghost’s motives since he realized there was one, unfortunately all he knows is what he’s done and not why.

Either the ghost is super lazy and couldn’t give a damn about Lance living with him, or he doesn’t want him to leave? And that just made his headache worse, clearly Lance wasn’t cut out to be a detective. 

“So that’s why he was throwing things at you, but missing on purpose!” Pidge exclaimed happily, “That makes so much sense!”

“What makes sense? What did we discover? I’m feeling a little lost, did I miss something?” Hunk interjected. Lance really didn’t blame him, he kind of wanted and explanation as well.

Pidge smirked and glanced up at Hunk with a look that meant nothing good, “Lance’s friend here has abandonment issues.” He sings.  
Oh. That is... actually pretty sad.

“That must be why he wasn’t trying to make me leave.” Lance exclaimed, glad to actually have some kind of explanation. Hunk seemed to be much less confused now as well and Pidge was practically glowing with happiness. “Ok one last question, you said ‘he’, so is this ghost a guy?” 

“Yes he is a guy, Hunk.” Pidge answered.

“Ok, just making sure. I feel like I missed half of what was going on.”

Lance looked over to the window seat and them back over to his friends. Pidge has a glint in his eyes as he rummaged through his bag. Obviously finding something he gave a small laugh and held up a tan box, “You want to try communication?”

Hunk laughed nervously and Lance just rolled his eyes. “I’ve tried before; he just leaves or makes a mess of things. Plus, after the weird stuff today we probably need a salt circle to protect us.”  
“Salt is to ward off paranormal activity so we don’t have to deal with them Lance, not protect us while we are trying to communicate with said paranormal activity.” Pidge corrected, zipping up his bag and setting the ‘game’ on the floor.  
He absentmindedly threw his bag on to the window seat and continued. “And if the ghost did leave then we can wait for him to come back, it’s really not that compl – OW!” He exclaimed as something hit the back of his head. His hands flew to the back of his head to cradle in pain only to look up to a surprised Lance and a horrified Hunk.

“I guess he is already here. I also should have told you that he doesn’t like people messing with his area; aka the window seat.”

“That guy just threw Pidge’s stuff back at him!!” Yelled Hunk who seemed to be on the edge of a nervous breakdown. He was holding his head in a similar fashion as Pidge and was seconds away from pacing like a mad man. Lance felt like doing that but he opted to try and be sane for a little longer. There is only so much a guy can do with shit like this.

“That’s actually the most violent I’ve ever seen him.” Lance stated with a nervous laugh.

“God Lance, you live with a really strong ghost.” Pidge mumbled as he continued to cradle his head and drop to the floor. Pulling the game closer to him and pulling out the stuff, he gave an expecting look at the other two causing them to sit around the board. 

“Basically we all lightly place our hands on this piece with the circle in it, and we all move it around for a moment. After that we stop moving it and wait. Typically, we would start will simple yes or no questions, but I don’t think it matters in this situation.

“Also Pidge, if you move the piece when we are asking questions I will hurt you.” Lance threatens. “I know you think this is a game, but I am going to try to take this as seriously as possible.” ‘Seriously as possible’ roughly translates to ‘I’m having a fucking mental breakdown; I don’t think I can even handle what the ghost will do.’

“Got it.” Pidge winked. He wasn’t intimidated, because clearly he could see the fear in Lance’s eyes, it wasn’t hard to miss, but Lance just wanted him to get the message. Even if he didn’t get it then Lance still wouldn’t hurt him; If he was pinned for hurting a member of the Holt family then he would be the ghost in the room. Also Pidge somehow managed to intimidate Lance despite obvious differences in stature. Who knows, Pidge could probably re-write his molecules or something, that kid was genius and he did not want to get on his bad side. Also that topic happened to be a nightmare he had had since knowing the guy so his confidence was already wavered.

“Ready?”  
“Let’s get this over with.” Lance sighs.

All three cautiously placed their hands on the piece and moved it around for a moment as Pidge said. Pidge asked some dumb question about if the spirits were with them or some crap, and they waited. Lance got tired of waiting really quickly and tried to move onto another question, but Pidge stopped him. Apparently that was not allowed? Lance still didn’t fully understand why this guy would communicate over some dumb game that fourteen year olds play and slumber parties. The guy wouldn’t even write down a response when he gave him the notebook! On the other hand, maybe the guy didn’t know how to write? Wait, but then this board would be useless too! Also if this guy was intelligent enough to mess with Lance relentlessly then you’d think the guy would be able to communicate.

Lance was so done with waiting by the time five minutes had passed he just gave up with Pidge’s rules. “What’s your name?” Pidge looked offended, as if he had just asked him what his social security number was or some shit like that. “Lance!” He hissed, “what are you doing?” 

“I’m asking a question! We already know the guy is in the room, he fucking threw your bag at you! With all this waiting, I wouldn’t be surprised it he fell asleep; if that’s even possible for ghosts to do.”

“I don’t think it is…” Hunk mumbled in response.

Lance sighed, “I might as well ask a reasonable question that someone might actually be inclined to answ- and oh my god the piece is moving.” Sure enough the piece was moving quite forcefully around the board spelling out what Lance assumed was a name.

K-A-T-Y

“Katy? I thought this guy was a dude.” Hunk interjected as the piece stopped moving. “Yeah, I thought so too?” The piece then resumed moving to everyone’s surprise, as if the guy had been waiting for a reaction.

P-E-R-R-Y

“Nope this guy is fucking with us.” 

“No shit Sherlock.” Pidge responded to Lance’s obvious statement. 

Hunk looked around the room and then back to the board. He laughed nervously moving all of the attention to him. “If this guy’s first response was a lie, how can we trust anything he says?” The room felt cold to Lance as Hunk and Pidge started talking about what they would do next. He was only slightly listening to them; he was more interested in keeping his eyes on the window seat where things were being messed with. The movements weren’t drastic enough to grab the others attention, but they were definitely there. Slowly the note book slid behind a small mound of blankets, obscuring Lance’s vision of what the ghost was doing.

“Um, Earth to Lance!” Pidge called, “You ok there? I would say that you look like you’ve seen a ghost, but that’s a little too real to be funny. Now if we hadn’t detected any paranormal activity then it would be appropriate but-“ 

“Pidge not now.” He sighed, “Also keep a watch out for flying objects because-“ Lance didn’t even get a chance to finish his warning as the notebook went flying across the across the room landing right in front of Lance. “And this is what I was going to warn you about.”

“The ghost is trying to kill us!” Hunk yelled as he covered his head. Apparently the ghost found that amusing because not even a moment later a pen was lightly tossed at Hunk, hitting his arm lightly and hitting the ground. He opened his eyes and gave a sigh of disbelief, “I’m assuming that was the ghost? Yeah that was definitely the ghost…”

Pidge snorted, “The ghost has a better sense of humor then you Lance!”

“I’m offended.”  
“The second I make a joke you are offended, I’m pretty sure jut being in my presence is offending.”  
“You stole my line.”  
“That was the plan.” He laughs, “So what important about a notebook anyway? Or did you just throw it at you because you are an ass?”

“Wow, you two are going a little too hard at this insult thing.” Hunk noticed, raising his hands up in shock. “It’s like you’re trying to make each other cry from lack of self-confidence as a god damn ghost is in the same room as us.”

Two pairs of eyes found Hunks witch drew a line at the insults or whatever they were doing. This is what friends were like; or Lance just has the wrong friends. What was it about them not working well together again?

Pidge laughed one last time before mocking Lance again to lessen the seemingly tense atmosphere of the room. A small smile played on Lance’s lips as he opens the notebook to the front page. It was all written in smudged red ink and harsh penmanship that seemed to sloppy to have been done carefully.

“PROPERTY OF ANYONE BUT YOU” was written in all caps taking up the majority of the front page. The next page caused Lance to laugh grabbing the others attention. Apparently this ghost did have a sense of humor. 

“Yo, did ghost boy actually write anything or are you just fucking with us?” Pidge inquired, raising his eyebrow in suspicion. Lance just looked back over at Pidge and smiled, passing him the notebook. He would definitely get a kick out of the ‘ghost boy’s’ note.

Slowly he started to read out loud the second page that Lance had found so amusing, “Hi, my name is Keith. Number one, I’m assuming that you guys hate each other but I’m not quite sure yet. Number two, how the hell is Katy Perry not dead yet? She is like, 40.” 

“Wow, ok. First of all, none of us hate each other,” Hunk starts off as Pidge snickers a small “are you sure about that?” earning a small disappointed frown, “And second of all, how long have you been a ghost?

She’s like, 30.”

“She’s actually 33.” Lance corrects only to be waved off by a clearly not interested Hunk. “But hey! Maybe he’s a ghost from the future!”

“Highly unlikely and possibly impossible.”

“Pidge why do you take the fun out of everything?”

“You guys are having fun?” Hunk gaps.

Instead of dull silence as Hunks words hung in the air, a pen is picked up, the notebook is opened, and words are formed on the paper. Careful lines this time being written by an invisible hand. It was bizarre and unexplainable to the three. Unlike the last actions the ghost had done, this was by far the least expected. Lance just sat there staring at the notebook next to him as the ghost wrote away. Before today Lance never could have believed that this ghost, Or Keith, would ever try to communicate like this. Instead here he was, watching him write in a notebook as a form of communication instead of breaking pencils or messing with faucets. It was an unexpected improvement.

“Katy Perry is a horrible singer just so you know. Also why the hell would I be from the future? That makes no sense, also if my vague sense of time is correct I’m going to assume 4 or 5?”

“Wait, four or five years? That’s not so bad!” Exclaimed a happy Hunk, “At least he isn’t from the Victorian era or something.”

“That would have actually been a little cooler. Think of all of the information we’d gain!” Pidge responded, “Also stop moping about Katy Perry, she really isn’t that good, Lance.” 

“You guys just don’t appreciate good music!”

“I don’t think you know what good music is.” 

“Hey, guys? The ghost has a message for you and that message says ‘Do you ever stop fighting?’” read Hunk, “No, apparently we do not.” He responded as the other two continued to bicker. This was going to be a very long day.

By the end of the day, around ten pm, Lance was left on his own to continue to interrogate Keith. Keith, who to Lance’s previous statements, was still an ass. Either that or he has strong opinions just like himself, but he was just biased because Keith is a ghost. They had gotten not too much information from him, but they were deemed appropriate for the first signs of communication. It was also quite hard to communicate to a person who one couldn’t see and was writing in an old notebook to answer.

The information panned out like this: His name is Keith; He is a male who died around four or five years ago. He lived with his brother; the information was very vague for this considering the fact that he mentioned ‘brother’ once and then stopped all together. No joke, he mentioned his brother and then stopped communicating all together! Lance found it a little weird, but maybe he has a strong relationship with the said sibling? There was only so much Lance could make up without it more information. He would try to get more, but Keith didn’t seem up for talking anymore. Maybe he only talks in groups? God, Lance was just thinking too much now.

Again Lance found himself on his bed with his laptop trying to continue with his essay. It really wasn’t that hard of an assignment, his mind was just in other places. He would repeatedly look up from his work to examine the window seat on hopes of seeing something. He may have seen Keith once, but it was only for a moment and the information he got out of it was minimal. Trying to get focused was proving to be a difficult task.

By eleven pm Lance was almost having a staring contest with the window seat just waiting for something to happen. Surprise, surprise… nothing did. 

Sleep came easily to him that night.

He dreamed of a house- no, it was his house; the ghosts house. It was tidy, but still a mess. Piles of stuff scattered around in no particular order, but it was simple enough for someone to find something if needed. The house felt empty. Lance slowly walked up the stairs, there was a light on in both bedrooms, the open door was Lance’s room and the other was occupied by a voice and the light sound of pacing footsteps through the gap in the door. Whoever it was in the room was talking on the phone and sounded very distressed. Not stressed distressed, but…sad.  
Lance walked into his room. There was a steady beeping of a heart monitor and a hospital bed; hospice care. Lance couldn’t see the person’s face; it was covered with a white sheet. The person in the other room spoke louder as if the one receiving the information was refusing to believe him. Another look around the room revealed all of the same furniture Lance had in the room. All of it was the same, but there were lights hanging from the walls and glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. Model fighter jets and space ships made with a careful hand adorned a shelf. There was a neglected backpack kicked aggressively under the bed. The voice became much more frantic and Lance realized that the heart monitor was beeping louder and faster. Someone walked into the room, phone was dropped. They were crying.  
The heart monitor had a long red line on it, the sheet was covered in blood.

Lance woke up in a cold sweat. 

What kind of dream was that? It wasn’t scary, just…sad and way to lifelike. His eyes remained on the bed sheets trying to focus on something until a pale glow catches them. It’s a soft light, barely there. A very pale blue. Carefully lance looks up and his breath hitches.

The window seat was occupied by a teen. Black hair was pulled into a small pony tail and thick framed glasses sat on his pale nose as he leafed through a book. He adorned a slightly oversized red sweatshirt and black pants. He was very pale and was the source of the very soft light. 

This was Keith.

Lance just stared, not even rubbing his eyes to see if he was still dreaming because he didn’t want to wake up. This was Keith, but instead of throwing things at Lance randomly or making sarcastic comments on everything, he was just sitting there peacefully. A small breeze made its way through the window, blowing Keith’s hair slightly as a gloved hand reached up to fix it- wait fingerless gloves? The more Lance learned the weirder it got.

Lance tried to shift back down into the bed, causing the usually quiet mattress to squeak. Lance cringed as Keith suddenly looked up from the book and navy eyes met blue. Lance stayed perfectly still as Keith just stared at him, expression impossible to read. The Christmas lights lightly flickered a few time and then Keith was gone. A closed book lying in his place. 

There was no way that was a dream, Lance told himself. It was too vivid and realistic- hell, if you can even call ghosts realistic. Keith was so non-threatening and he didn’t seem to care that Lance had saw him again, it was unusual to say the least, but Lance was in favor of the calmer side of his roommate. God, he was still trying to completely wrap his head around this whole situation. Who knew so much could happen to someone in a week? Thank god for the weekend right? He would just close his eyes again for a while…

Lance woke up once again with a start, but this time it wasn’t from a dream, instead he was awoken by his phone blowing. Groggily he opened the device and squinted at the bright screen despite the bright sun streaming through the window. That had got to be the best weather Lance had seen here, but chances are that it wouldn’t last long. Probably get covered by clouds or something. The group chat was being spammed with random messages from Pidge about ghost theories and Hunk telling him that he had homework to work on instead of trying to figure out a ghost’s backstory. Lance didn’t really care to read it and instead he laid back down again in exhaustion. Let him sleep more, that was all he wanted. Melody knocked on the door loudly to inform Lance that she was leaving to which she received a groggy “ok” in response that Lance barely remembered doing.

When Lance officially woke up it was eleven am and Lance was determined to see Keith again to prove that he wasn’t just horribly hallucinating last night! Ok, the more he thought about it, the more likely it became. He was still determined though… but first he had to eat and stuff because basic human needs. Wait, did aliens need to eat? Why is he thinking of this? It may be noon but it’s still too early to think properly.

But instead of doing any of that, he took into consideration the reminders from Hunk telling him to finish the homework- that was apparently more of a priority then trying to figure out your ghost roommate. Well, not to Pidge that is. It’s funny how a person can change from complete denial, to investing themselves in something in a questionably short amount of time. Then again, Pidge is questionable and short so he guessed it worked. Pidge was working on researching people who died in the past four to five years with the name Keith. Lance thought it would be very hard, but the only thing Pidge worried about was the classification of people’s names. He could find a million deaths but they could all be classified, then he would have to dig even deeper for things… That’s why Pidge was left to do this. If Lance or Hunk tried they would give up after ten minutes.

Hunk had also advised Lance so stay away from communicating with Keith until they had more information. He was concerned that Keith was insane or something, but Pidge thought it was hilarious. So instead of Lances previous plan to see Keith again, he would ignore him and wait to see if he makes a move first. It kind of ruined all of Lance’s motivation though. Why did he have to scroll through the group chat while he was eating? Probably because if they didn’t read through his messages he would be offended and…. Yeah he knew why now. It’s not like the homework was hard, he just believed that he had better things to do like, hunt ghosts! 

Instead here he was again, back on his bed, working on that essay or whatever on safety. “Sight all sources to Coran WiblSmith and Shirogane’s Mucles.” He mumbled and typed into the document. Laughing to himself he took a picture and snapped it to the snap chat group chat. Yes, they had more than one group chat, one was just more practical than the other. 

Pidge quickly responded with a blurry photo of himself covering his face with his hand with the caption: wHY Are YoU LiKE ThIS??  
Hunk just responded with a black screen: “You can’t even spell muscles correctly.”

New chats from “If You Say This Isn’t A Cult I Will Fight You.”  
Pigeon: He also capitalized it  
Hunk: I’m nearly positive that was intentional.  
Pigeon: Fucking accurate

Lance quickly sent the finger gun emoji’s and went back to work as Pidge replayed Lance’s snap and screenshotted it. It would probably be used for blackmail someday… Why does he trust Pidge with anything? In a couple years Pidge is just going to compile all of the stupid shit Lance has sent and put it on the internet then it’s going to go viral and people are going to make fun of the cool sharpshooter who was now famous and Lance is going to go throw himself off a cliff witch is a very unfortunate way to die and he really doesn’t want to do that and- wait, shit no! He just typed all of that onto the end of the essay. Why is it so hard to think about safety rules?? Actually that’s probably why accidents happened, they don’t have the mentality to continuously think about what could go wrong. And, that’s called anxiety. Yeah that’s most definitely anxiety. Where is his mind today?

After a few moments of deleting that large run on sentence that he somehow typed into the computer, he actually started working on the bibliography again. Well, to the best of his ability. He really didn’t know what he was typing, but if he cited the garrison website that would count… right? His typing was momentarily delayed as a pen was thrown at him. Why was it always pens? Why did Lance own so many pens?? Lance was the one who was told to ignore messing with Keith for a while and here he was. “The Hunter was now the Haunted” he mumbled. That made a lot more sense in Lance’s head, but another pen hit the wall before he could figure out what was wrong with the statement. 

He sighed in exasperation as a third pen hit his arm. He really needed to buy a safe to lock all of the pens in. Would that even work? If ghosts could phase through things, then it wouldn’t… 

“Keith, Buddy, Boyo friendo, ok yeah that one was lame, but can you cut me some slack? I’m trying to do work and I didn’t really sign up to be a dart board.” Lance stated eyes not moving from the computer as he typed in the last of his essay. 

Another Pen.

“Wow. You just love attention don’t you?” He waited. Nothing else happened. He looked up from the screen to the window seat only to realize that the onslaught of pens wasn’t coming from there, but from the side of the bed. “The Fuck?”

He quickly turned his head to the side and he flipped out.

Standing right there, inches from the bed, stood Keith. The glasses were gone, he still had the red sweatshirt and his hair was down… he had a mullet? Well of course he had a fucking mullet. That makes sense because clearly five years ago had been during the early eighty’s. Lance’s heart felt like it was going to break his ribs, but all he could think about was why this guys had a fucking mullet?? Keith just stared at him unimpressed, and backed up a little bit.

“I’ve seen a ghost.” Lance muttered in a shocked trance.

“Yeah. No shit. You’ve seen one three times now.”

“Oh, my GOD HE CAN SPEAK.” Lance yelled, which was probably very unnecessary but Lance didn’t really have control over what he did for the time being.

Keith just stared. He looked so done with everything. “You are kidding me. What are you? Deranged?”

“Now that I have proof that a ghost exists as my roommate, yeah. I think you can call me deranged.”

“Good job. You know the definition of a word.” He sarcastically stated. Or maybe that was just his attitude. He was proving to be more of an ass every time he did something.

As Lance finally got control of his thoughts, Keith had made it make to the window seat and had picked up the book he had been reading. “Wait!” Lance quickly stated receiving another annoyed glare from the other. “Does it look like I’m going anywhere?”

“Uh, no.” Lance stuttered out slowly, “But I have so many questions!” 

“You can ask them later when you aren’t acting like you’re high on some weird shit.”

“I’m not high.”

“But you’re acting like it.” Keith stated casually. His eyes left the book to look at Lance, who quickly looked down. “When you can look me in the eyes without freaking out then you can ask questions. At the moment you are probably still thinking this is a dream.”

“That’s because you keep disappearing.” Lance countered, “How is this reality when you are only sometimes there?”

Keith set down the book; Lord of the Flies, Lance noted. Why did Lance even still have that book? Keith looked lazily over at Lance and made a proposal, “If you go about your day normally, I will remain visible in this room. That included if other people enter the room besides you or with you. You want confirmation that I’m here? You’ll get it.

“So, what are you going to do? What do ghost even do?” Lance inquired.

“Um, I’m going to sit here and read this book?” Keith said as he held up the book, confused by the question.

“Well do you want to listen to music or something? Lance tried.

“The last thing I want to listen to is your music.”

“We really don’t know anything about each other.” Lance finishes as he leans back and falls on the bed, effectively removing Keith from his vision.

“Correction; you know nothing about me, I know too much about you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Haven't moved from my bed in 2 1/2 hours, I haven't ate in almost 24 hours, I feel like I'm going to die, but here is a chapter for you!  
> This chapter might have been longer then intended? Or not, I didn't pay attention to the word count but I felt like wrote a lot.(Edit: I checked this is over 1000 words longer then I planned)  
> I'm not sure what else to say except thank you for all the feed back!  
> If you want you can hit me up on Instagram or Voltron Amino;  
> Insta: technologicalpigeons  
> Amino: IntergalacticPigeons  
> I look like I'm twelve and I cosplay Pidge. Everything I do has too much to do with Pidge. I have a problem. Anyway, hit me up on those, I love talking to people.  
> I do plan to go back and fix mistakes in my chapter later, just wanted to say that so you know I'm not neglecting all my mistakes.  
> KUDO'S ARE NICE BUT COMMENTS GIVE ME LIFE!


	4. A small bonding moment.

So far Keith had been visible for three hours, making it pretty official that Lance wasn’t just tripping. The amount of work Lance got done in that time was minimal though. All the work he had tried to do on his bed just ended in him having a one sided staring contest at an uninterested Keith. This was a major problem because normally the one place he was able to focus at was on his bed, and here he was proceeding to get zero work done. But on the other hand a lot of stuff had happened in the past two days so he was probably still processing that. At least that was his excuse to himself, if he used that on Hunk or especially Pidge, they would call bullshit so fast. He had tomorrow to finish it and hopefully by then he wouldn’t be freaking out so much about the ghost. 

Actually, no. He would probably be freaking out about this ghost until he’s the one who is the ghost. Hmm… But if he died in this house, would he haunt alongside Keith? Or would Keith go to another place like heaven or hell or wherever one goes when they die; if they actually go anywhere. This entire situation had begun to make Lance question everything he learned as a child. He just wanted answers and Keith wasn’t very willing to give them. All Keith had been doing is read in the window seat, occasionally changing position. Lance did notice that the glasses were back, for some reason it was absolutely adorable that Keith needed reading glasses. It also brought up more questions that Lance was dying to ask. 

It was also weird to think about the fact that Keith, presumably a teenage boy, had been in the same room as Lance has for a week. Who knows what he could have seen! Maybe Keith was secretly a pervert and Lance wouldn’t know because he keeps disappearing! It was perfectly normal to be paranoid about this kind of stuff, Lance was genuinely worried that this guy wasn’t as innocent as he seemed. He actually didn’t really seem threatening in that way, but Lance so far had zero proof of anything. What he did know was minimal, useless and possibly fake. He was also unable to ask questions because if he tried Keith would cut him off and glare at him.

It didn’t help that his dream was still in the back of his mind. This room, that man, the heart monitor. The more he thought about it, the creepier it became. What if that was from Keith’s past? What if that was something private that no one talked about? It could just be Lance being paranoid, but it was super weird to wake up from a dream such as that and then instantly have Keith completely admit his existence. 

The entire situation was like a jigsaw puzzle.

Lance never has the patience to finish them.

He wants to be able to sit down and complete them in one sitting and he can’t ever do it. Now he just wants all of the answers to all of his questions and he doesn’t even get a chance. Look at him, the great Lance McClain, unable to ask a ghost a question without getting scared. Scared? No that’s not what he meant!! Keith is just a little… intimidating?

Luckily his thoughts were interrupted as his phone vibrated next to his leg, successfully prying his eyes away from Keith and to the message from Pidge. 

New message from Pidge.

Pidge: If Keith is anywhere near you, leave the room. Go down stairs or something and make it seem as if you are going to do something completely uninteresting.

Lance: uhhh. Why

Pidge: Because I’m going to call you because I found some information,

Oh thank god.

Lance: Ok.

Lance: that should be easy because he has to remain visible all day.

Pidge: um. What. What did you do?

Lance: we made a deal. He has to remain visible all day no matter what. So far he has been reading every book I brought with me and hasn’t moved once.

Lance: I don’t think he’s going to follow me.

Pidge: just go somewhere so I can call you.

Getting down stairs as casually as possible was actually a big mistake. Lance had shakily fell off of his bed, somehow, he doesn’t remember: he did remember Keith staring at him with the most unimpressed expression as Lance pretty much sprinted down the stairs. 

If that wasn’t stealthy at its max, then Lance didn’t know what stealthy meant. He practically did a barrel roll onto the couch, to him that was pretty slick. At least Keith didn’t seem interested, that was the one thing he cared about.

Pidge’s phone rang for about a half second before It was answered with a crash and some unintelligible words that were very loud; loud enough to make Lance nearly drop his phone. 

“Pidge?” Lance questioned cautiously. He had been doing a lot of things cautiously recently and it really wasn’t his forte. He received some angry mumbling before he actually heard Pidge form coherent sentences.

“Yeah I’m here.” Pidge sounded tired, and impatient. His voice was gravely and Lance could only assume he was sick or had just woken up. The latter was more likely.

“What was with all of that… stuff?”

“My brother and S-“ he coughs violently, “his friend are and I needed to get out of the public area before I could speak.”

“Um, why is that?” Lance laughed, “It’s not like you have a ghost breathing down your neck.”

“Reasons.”

“Descriptive.”

“Anyway”, Pidge continued, “From the research I found the most obvious explanation was that your boy Keith,”

“My boy?”

“Lance shut up. Let me speak please? I’m really fucking tired I haven’t slept in days due to personal reasons, give me this one thing. As I was saying, Keith was probably shot in the shooting. Now only 3 people were killed on sight, but quite a few were injured. From a couple articles covering it people said that a student was shot and then died later at his house. Apparently his… um… family took him home after the hospital said he wouldn’t make it.”

“Are you keeping something from me Pidge?” Lance asked. The way Pidge was communicating was very minimal, and normally if he didn’t have all of the facts then he would recite the entire article. Right now he was leaving out crucial information and lance didn’t know why.

“Again, I’m tired. I probably missed some stuff.”

Lance gasped, “YOu missed stuff?? The great Pidge?”

Pidge’s laugh rings through the receiver, “That voice crack though. Very manly Lance.”

“Bro, that’s rude, don’t call me out on that.” Lance pouts. He’s been exposed.

“You call me out on everything, let me have this once.”

“Fiiine! If you find any people that might have info on Keith, then ask them. I need information!!”

“Uh. Yeah no can do. That’s not really my thing…”

“What. No, Pidge that is exactly your thing.”

“Not this time. I really don’t want to.”

“Pidge are you ok?”

“Just leave Keith alone, ok? I’ve got to go.”

“Pidge what are you talking about?” The line went dead, leaving Lance horribly confused. Nothing like this had ever happened before and Lance needed to know what was going on. But deep in the back of him mind, he knew, if Pidge wouldn’t want him to know, he probably shouldn’t know. He’ll hold off on it; right now it doesn’t matter.

The door creaked as Lance entered his room once again. The floor was cold, but the air was warm so he knew the heater was still functioning. Keith seemed bored as Lance plopped down onto his bed and gave a tired sigh.

“How are you tired? He slept like eleven hours last night.” Keith questions. 

“Do ghosts sleep?”

“That’s a dumb question.” He complains, “If I could what do you think I would be doing right now?” Lance gave a small smile at that. “Hey, why don’t you sit over here?” Lance offers, patting the bed as he sat against the wall. 

“No.”

“Ok then!” Lance got up and moved from the bed to the window seat, ignoring Keith’s groans in protest. Lance got himself settled across from Keith, moving a items around to make it comfier. It was colder over here, the window was thin and Keith was remaining in his usual place. 

“It’s cold over here.” He tried as Keith just gave him a disappointed look. “I’m a ghost. Did you expect anything else? My body is as cold as my soul.”

Lance laughed, he was quite amused by Keith’s antics to remain edgy and anonymous. “That’s a little edgy don’t you think? I mean, you are hard to read the majority of the time but you don’t completely look like an edge lord. The glasses and hair don’t fit it, you kind of look like a hipster.” 

That seemed to throw Keith off a bit. His eyes widened and he quickly removed his glasses, shoving them in his sweatshirt and looked out the window with a pouty expression. Lance laughed some more and Keith protested. Keith did have a personality; it was just… unreachable. Keith was very closed in and said nothing about himself. Instead he responded to Lance’s actions and dumb statements that Lance randomly said and did. But figured that he would forever be wounded by being called a hipster.

The day continued like this until the sun had gone down and the temperature dropped the smallest amount. Lance had somehow pried a bunch of blankets from Keith’s pile onto his bed so the ghost wasn’t very happy about that. Unlike how he promised earlier, Keith disappeared when Melody came in and asked if Lance had the radio on. She had been hearing a conversation from down stairs, and that proved that Lance needed to keep it down when he was talking to Keith.

Of course as it got later and Melody was asleep the conversation resumed, but this time on a more personal matter. It started as a casual and very bland statement from Keith about how there was nothing to do, and it escalated quickly from there.

“Wait, you watch me change?!”

“Well I’ve watched you do a lot of things. I did just follow you around the house the first couple days you were here. I’ve been dead for five years nothing is not slightly intriguing to me.”

“Wait, no. So you watched me, even when I…?” Lance made a bunch of random and meaningless gestors hoping that Keith got the point.

Keith squinted and leaned back against the wall a bit more, “I don’t even understand what you are trying say. But it’s not like you are super discrete about things, or anything for that matter.”

“It’s still super weird! And also pretty creepy! You have officially ruined the mood forever.”

Keith rolled his eyes, “Doubt that considering that it’s you we’re talking about.”

“Woah! Ok! Ok! That’s enough!!” Lance, his face red with embarrassment while against the wall, Keith had a small smirk appear on his face in amusement. “You get embarrassed really fast for someone who initiates conversations like this.” He comments.

“Why are we talking about this anyway? You made it super weird…”

“You knew you had a ghost in the house and you did nothing about it. Also, again, you’re the one asking questions so don’t blame it on me.

“I sort of figured the ghost would be a little more respectful.” Lance countered.

“Well, all of my stuff was in here so I kind of just wanted to stay in my typical spot.”

“You mean all of the stuff you stole from me?”

“This is my room?” 

“Fair point.” Lance said. He had somehow ended up pacing around the room while Keith surprisingly found his way onto the bed and was watching in vague amusement. It had to be around midnight by now and the moon would shine brightly through the window when the heavy clouds covering it unveiled.

“Um,” Lance started again, “Do ghosts?” He made a vague movement with his hand. Lance could have sworn that Keith’s nearly transparent face had received some color from that question. “That is another dumb question that I am not going not answer.” Keith responds.

“The that’s a yes!” Lance exclaims giddily. 

“When did I say that? And why are you so happy about it? Jesus. You love to assume things.”

“Because you didn’t completely deny it! If you don’t instantly shoot it down, then it has to be true!” Lance was just making things up now.

“Yes, because that’s how logic works.” Keith mutters. Lance still catches him though, and the conversation is continued by him and borderline ignored by Keith for the next five minutes. Lance had tried to start conversations that wouldn’t trigger Keith due to what Pidge said, but he wasn’t going to completely ignore him. The only thing Lance wanted was answers, and Keith had those! He’ll find them out eventually… it’s kind of the only option after Pidge bailed on him. He had even tried looking up information on his own, but it just didn’t click. He should probably cross ‘detective’ off of his back up job list.

Instead here he continued to talk to Keith about things that actually seemed to make Lance more uncomfortable then the other. The more you know, right?

It was worth it; the questions were worth the humiliation of the truth.

Keith was happy.

Up closer Lance could see dark circles under his eyes, but his eyes shone happily. He had a small smile and he laughed slightly every time Lance freaked out from another unconventional answer. Lance may not know who Keith actually is, but right now, this was all he needed.

 

The air was crisp and cold; the wind even colder. Planes flew off for training while indoors the simulators were being used regularly. The inside of the garrison seemed to always be ten degrees colder than necessary. These were very typical sights at the Garrison, what wasn’t typical was the fact that neither Lance or Hunk saw Pidge during Coran’s class. But he was in Shiro’s. He was found at their desks, hunching over a piece of paper looking very irritated.

“Hey Pidge, what up?” Lance asks, sliding into his seat and leaning over next to Pidge.

“I’m dying, but that’s not important.” Hunk suddenly became horribly concerned, “You’re dying?? How is that not important!?” 

“Shush, Hunk. I’ll be fine.” Pidge responds with an absent wave of his hand. Lance was suspicious still.

“You are fine huh? Well explain that phone call to me will ya?”

“What phone call? What am I missing this time?” Hunk questions, “You really have to start including me in things, I feel very left out.”

“Pidge called me with information on Keith and suddenly got all defensive and told me to leave Keith alone! The information I got was useless, Pidge was being and ass, and I still have zero explanations for things!”

“Woah, that’s rough buddy.” Hunk responds, with a shrug. I wish I could help you but ghosts really aren’t my thing and- Pidge what is wrong with you??” Pidge had dropped his head on the table with a loud thump and was groaning in pain.

“Woah, Pidge!” Lance exclaimed, poking the smaller males head only to get his hand batted away, “I knew you were probably depressed but this is a whole new level.”

“Ah-em.”

Someone cleared their throat causing Lance and Keith to look up and see Shiro standing next to them. Pidge just sent a small, unclear wave in his general direction causing a disappointed look form the professor. 

“You feeling alright Pidge?”

“I’m dying.”

“You’d think he would give a more structured answer when it came to you, but apparently I was wrong.” Lance halfway muttered to Hunk. A small chuckle came from Shiro, receiving the two’s attention.  
“Of course not. Pidge has actually known me for a long time, the last thing he will ever do is give me a well-structured answer. And if you think that this is bad, you should see the sass he throws at Allura.”

“Wait, Allura?” Hunk gasps, “The director? Pidge knows her?”

“Pidge has a lot of connections with this school. He is the son of Sam Holt, and his brother is Mathew so obviously he is used to interacting with ‘leaders’ or so you say.”

“Shhh, Shiro don’t blow my cover, I thought I could trust you.” Pidge mumbled.

“On other notes, how are you two?” Shiro questions, completely ignoring Pidge.

“Dealing with a ghost.”

“Ah, you mentioned that last time. How’s that going for you?”

“Actually pretty good! We found out his name is K-"

“Kevin and he is very nice and heartwarming and respectful but Lance wouldn’t know that because everything, living and none living, hates him. That’ll be all Shiro, you have a class to teach, good day sir.” Pidge interjects suddenly whipping his head back from the table surface, grasping the front edge of the desk and leaning back to the chair rolled onto its back two legs. It was effective because Shiro just gave a confused look and nodded at the trio before walking back to the front of the class.

“What was that for?” Lance questions as soon as Shiro was out of earshot. 

“You can’t just go around giving out the identity of a ghost, Lance.” Pidge warned, he had a scowl on his face and his fists were tightly curled when he resituated his chair, “He’s a dead teenager! He died only five years ago, people here are still going to remember him.” He muttered that last part quietly. He looked so sad, his eyes were void of their usual furious and instead were just dull. 

Hunk immediately questioned if Pidge was alright again as Lance got to thinking again. He hated thinking too much into things, it never really ended right for him. Although in this situation, there really wasn’t any choice. At first Pidge was totally on bored the “lets hunt for ghosts” train, he is even the one who probably convinced Hunk to come. He was fine up until right after the first communication, probably after he had done some research. Now Lance knew that death was nothing to mess with and Pidge brought that to a whole new level. At first he told Lance to drop everything he had done, and now he was mad at Lance for trying to tell someone about it? Nothing was really making sense, there was a major missing link and Pidge was undoubtedly hiding it.

All though the class lecture, Lance simultaneously thought about what he would do when he saw Keith again; he was basically just repeating the same plan in his head over and over again because, truthfully, there was only one thing to do.

 

It was cold before, but kind of an enduring cold. The cold you could stand outside in for a while, but not to watch a sports game in. Now, that cold had turned into rain. Large rain drops fell as Lance finally got the door to open after his struggle with the keys; that and the doorknob loved to stick. Sopping wet, Lance casually flipped on some lights instead of opening the curtains. He really didn’t want to stare at the rain despite his love-hate relationship with it, and the soft yellow glow from the light was comforting to say the least. He stripped off his jacket and shirt on his way up the stairs and threw them in his bathroom and told himself that he would take care of them later.

Keith was still in his room reading yet another book that Lance had forgotten about. You’d think moving would be an excuse to get rid of some stuff, but Lance really just threw a bunch of shit in boxes and called it good.

“Do you do anything other than read?” Lance questions as he changes his shirt and struggles to get out of his jeans. “I mean, every time I see you you’re reading a book. Don’t you get tired of reading?” Boxer clad and wearing and old T-shirt, Lance sat of the edge of his bed, close enough to establish the fact that he wanted to talk, but not too close.

Keith looked up from his book and gave Lance a confused look. “I haven’t had much to do for five years Lance, reading a book is one of the most efficient things for me to do.”

“Hmm, ok then. Can you sleep?”

“Didn't you already ask this question?.” Keith asks as he starts reading again.

“Did I?" Lance mumbles, "I've got to step up my question game." Keith scoffs and Lance just brushes it off, "Oh! Can you phase through walls like in the movies?” Lance asks giddily, this was a question he really wanted an answer to for some reason.

“Yeah, but it’s weird and I feel super lightheaded afterwards so doors are more efficient to use because their sole purpose is to take someone from room to room.” He explained, glancing up at Lance. Their eyes met.

It wasn’t uncomfortable, or awkward, it was somehow felt like an achievement and gave proof that Keith was actually open to questions for once. Or as open as Lance would probably ever see.

“Do you know Pidge Holt?”

It just tumbled out before Lance could stop himself, and he was going to quickly take it back until he saw Keith’s expression; he was, confused. Very confused. That look of confusion when someone tells you how to do something and then the next person gives you a completely different explanation on how to do it that makes even less sense.

“I’m not sure I know who Pidge is…” He mutters.

“Oh, that’s ok!” Lance assures. If he didn’t know him then all of his assumptions were wrong and all of his leads were gone and… ugh.

“But I do know the Holts.” Keith finished.

“Wait what?” 

“Yeah.” Keith started, turning a bit more to face Lance and putting the book down. “My brother worked with Mathew Holt and Sam Holt on some stuff, most of time I would be there to watch over Sam’s daughter because Matt was convinced that he didn’t need to babysit a nine-year-old. I’m positive that he was correct because I pretty much just watched her take apart and fix a bunch of old computers.”  
Lance stared at Keith as he recalled the Holts family. Lance was confused, where did Pidge come in? Unless…”

“How many kids did the Holts have?”

“Two. Matt and Katie.”

“Would they have anymore?”

“Oh god, absolutely not. The Holt siblings are nightmares.”

“What does, what did you say… Katie look like?”

“Matt, but smaller. I last saw her five years ago so a lot has probably changed. She’d be fourteen now.”

Oh.

Everything made sense now. Lance let out a shuddered breath.

“When I came up here with all of that ghost technology or whatever, I had two other people with me. Do you remember?” He started. This could go horrible, but Lance needed to take the chance  
“It wasn’t that long ago.” 

“Well, the smaller one,” Keith looked at him expectantly, “Was Katie Holt.”

Keith froze for a moment in what looked like contemplation, then covered his face with his hands and groaned loudly. “No fucking shit. Of course that was her! Wow I might have just reached the Lance level of oblivious.” He says as he removed his hands and begins to stare at them. 

“Hey, its ok buddy.” Lance says as he makes his way onto the bed to sit in front of Keith.

“Buddy?” 

“Shut up Keith.” Lance quickly shot back. “I didn’t even know until now either. Well I knew he was a Holt but not that he was Katie Holt. Or did I? I don’t think he mentioned it. He just told us to call him Pidge.”  
Keith was confused again and Lance was starting to grow fond of that face of contemplation. It was kind of cute, honestly. Keith speaks up, “All I caught was a bunch of male pronouns and your obliviousness.” He looks back at Lance; then suddenly realizes they are way to close. His expression suddenly turns into a mix of emotions in a split second; happiness, sadness, lost, loneliness. For a moment Lance thought he saw tears forming-

Then it was gone.

Lance sat on the bed staring at the wall; alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonding moments am I right?  
> Why does every chapter end with Keith doing something to make Lance worried? Because I am the master at horrendous cliff hangers ha ha!  
> I'm tired, I'm freaking out because I am crunching for a con that's in 2 months. The typical shit with me,  
> Social media's-  
> Insta- technologicalpigeons  
> Voltron Amino- IntergalacticPigeons  
> Hit me up if ya want!
> 
> Thank you all for such amazing feedback! It makes me so happy to see that you guys are enjoying this fic, I <3 all ya'll.  
> All of your support really helps me in the long run and the next chapter is going to probably be very long if I stick to my plan, so it might be a while!


	5. Feelings and other inconveniences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WoAh guess who's not dead?  
> Me.  
> But Keith is, and getting information about dead teens is harder then it is for Keith to make friends- or just about.

Wind shook the house while rain beat on the windows in a feat of rage. Trees swayed heavily in the yard, threatening to tear themselves out of the ground. The sun was muted behind the dark clouds painting the air with a wash of grey. Things were scattered around the room, from a bystanders view it would look as if someone had thrown a fit and decided to tear their bookshelf apart, but no, that was just Lance who didn’t bother to put things away. Lance was up on the bed like always, for some reason he couldn’t bother himself to get a desk. He looked halfway between focused and distracted for he would be working, and then stop to look somewhere. The window was always where his eyes would land; he was looking for someone.

Keith was the far corner of the room right next to the bathroom door. He watched the younger male’s eyes flicker around before landing back onto the open book and computer before him.

It was cold.

Keith was cold, he was always cold, but it wasn’t a feeling more as it was an emotion. “Uninviting, Unfriendly” were the words to describe it. Weirdly enough Keith studied word symbolism in literature before getting kicked out of his high school for the last time. After that he went to Garrison but…

Word symbolism was his favorite things, or just any symbolism. He read way too deep into a story and every word that was placed had another meaning inside his head. Like The Lord of the Flies- Keith was probably the only kid in his class to enjoy it- had symbolism outside of what they studied and he worked to find that. Once he found everything the story made _sense._ Things will never make sense until you see under the surface of what is given to you.

It’s the same as Slaughterhouse 5. Keith had to read this one multiple times before he totally understood the concepts. One would think that the character was insane, but there was more to it than that… so much more.

Keith was a misread book, an unidentified chunk of symbolism that had yet to be deciphered by the students who talked to him back then. There were reasons behind his actions, and even though they weren’t as calculated as in the books, there was still a reason, as small as it may be. Someone was always going to pick a fight with him, or the other way around, it’s hard to tell; but it’s always going to happen when it comes to Keith. It’s not like he tries to prevent them; he just goes along with it. The sooner it’s over the less he has to deal with it.

Ask anyone else and that would be a horrible philosophy.

Keith just naturally has bad philosophy.

He separated himself from the crowd and tried to remain unseen by the majority of people, but something inclined him to interact with Lance. Maybe it was the unrelenting loneliness that accumulated over the years; the loss of voices, lack of faces, unable to move freely for years. There was just that inclination the drove Keith to mess with the unsuspecting teen. He called it boredom but anyone one else could’ve come up with a better excuse.

Keith only grew up with one person, that one person was the only one he trusted. Being thrown in foster care at such a young age did that to people; prevent their social skills. It aids in the mentality that they are unwanted and unloved because not even the people who gave birth to them would care for them. Now Keith knew there was a difference between people who couldn’t care for their young and the ones who wouldn’t care for their young; their own flesh and blood. Keith’s parents were the latter- he got ahold of the documents. The one person that he trusted was named Shiro, he was seven years older than Keith which should have not worked out, but the two surprisingly got along well. Keith was adopted into the family and after the parents went to hell he expected to be thrown out again, but Shiro didn’t let that happen. He was Keith’s morality, his impulse control. If Shiro wasn’t there, then Keith would have died much younger.

_“Suicide is a coward’s way out, if you take that road then you are showing everyone that you are worth much less then actually you are.”_

Shiro prevented a lot of things.

Keith tore his eyes from the storm outside only for them to land back on Lance. A small smile found its way to the surface.

Back against the wall, computer resting on his outstretched legs, Lance was asleep. His head gently lolled back and forth which couldn’t be good for his neck, but the sight was enduring. Keith understood his struggle, the Garrison books always went on about two hundred pages to long. Lance was probably looking up cliff notes on the info, which was typically what Keith would have done in the first place; nobody could understand the Garrison books, not even the authors themselves Keith assumed.

With a silent, air free huff, he stands up and walks over to the bed. The garrison book was open; the computer page was on spark notes. Fucking thank god for whoever put that there, Keith had to do some major digging for those notes. Times really have changed, Keith lightly laughed at that. Five years really wasn’t too much time in Keith’s mind, but to rest of the world is must have been. In five years another war could have been waged, he wouldn’t know. It’s not like he can leave this place.

Keith swiped a piece of hair out of Lance’s face. They would never have a connection; Lance was just unfortunate enough to have to move into this cage that Keith called home. He didn’t sign up for this, he didn’t deserve this, Lance deserved to have a normal life. Keith would never deserve to know him.

Thunder rumbled, followed later by a flash of lightning.

He smiled.

It’s funny.

Storm represents bad things. Death, chaos, nothing good ever comes out of storms they say. If someone wants to impend bad luck in a story they would write about a storm. The storm would kill; it would take everything away from you in a swift movement.

It’s funny.

It was sunny on the day that it happened.

-

 _Fuck,_ Lance’s neck _hurt like hell._

Of course he would end up falling asleep reading that stupid book. It made zero sense whatsoever! Who wrote books like that? Books exists to pass information or ideas from one person to another, apparently this guy missed the memo that a book shouldn’t put someone to sleep after four pages.

A quick assessment of his surroundings showed that the door was open and the storm was calming down a little, now just rain instead of thunder and lightning… wait. Double take.

The door was open.

Hadn’t he closed it?

Lance blinked and rubbed his eyes, pushing his computer off of his lap and getting up. Melody wasn’t here, so the door must have been opened by Keith; last Lance saw him they didn’t end on the best terms. He still felt really bad about that conversation, he really should have listened to Pidge when he told him to leave Keith alone. Honestly, Lance didn’t expect Keith to know Pidge! He just had to get the worst case scenario; the one scenario he _didn’t_ predict. Lance groaned, walking down the stairs while trying to retrieve information from his sleep muddled brain.

Note to self- don’t fall asleep while studying or else your brain will turn to mush.

Keith had said something about his brother working with the Holts, so that was why Keith knew that family. That must have been the information Pidge was trying to keep from him the other day… for some reason.

The coffee maker gurgled, leaking some water onto the counter in a small, clear puddle.

Out of all the things that Pidge could have done, he kept the fact that Keith had a brother tucked away from him, but why? He tried to avoid saying Keith’s name in public, and he really freaked out when Lance was telling Shiro… Was Shiro Keith’s old teacher? Maybe he knew Keith’s brother, maybe he knew exactly what happened to Keith.

This wasn’t going to end well.

The puddle remained as Lance bounded up the stairs two at a time. It remained as he finished his work and tried to research more. The towel was lifted, but dropped, missing the counter by ending up on the linoleum floor. It was still sitting there when Lance rushed out the door the next morning a few hours earlier than anyone would prefer.

Keith sat on the floor, leaning against the counter watching Lance leave with a bright yellow umbrella that he would later ditch in exchange for speed. His eyes drifted back to the towel once the door closed, and then back to door.

A breathless sigh.

What happens next? Keith wonded how long it will take to know the whole story.

-

It was sunny, not a single cloud obscured the blue backdrop above everyone’s heads. Days like this were rare, days like this happened after a storm. A time of chaos followed by the sweet reward of a warm day and a cool breeze. Most people were outside, laughing and talking with hair whipping around their faces from the breeze. No one cared that the wind was stronger than usual, they saw the sun and that accounted for celebration. Keith walked by crowded benches and groups of students huddled into circles on the damp grass. He gave a small smile as he opened up the side door, made of glass just like the other one, only this one wasn’t shattered. The one next to it had been kicked by a student causing it to shatter into rings of jagged patterns. Everyone thinks that the Garrison is so productive but they can’t even manage to fix a broken door in the timespan of two weeks.

That must have been one of the few things Keith found that amusing.

This prestigious and well known school didn’t have the capability to replace a goddamn door. Some students had put duct tape on the glass to keep some pieces of glass in place. The situation was borderline pathetic, but still amusing.

The hall ways were barren at the moment causing Keith’s footfalls to sound heavy instead of being drowned out by the usual plethora of students that seemed to roam the halls. Not today though, it was nice to have a change.

Shiro was sitting at his desk when Keith entered the classroom. Classes didn’t start for another twenty minutes so there was plenty of time to waste. He stole a swivel chair from the other desk, dropped his stuff on the floor and rolled up to Shiro receiving an unimpressed glance. Mind you this “rolling up” was anything but graceful. Keith half watched and half spaced out as Shiro last minute graded papers- this was quite a normal sight. Most people would say that Shiro is one of the more productive teachers, but he really isn’t. Keith couldn’t even begin to count the times where Shiro had been later to his class then his students. Most days he would arrive after the bell and come up with a pathetic excuse to avoid confrontation. Today he had actually woken up on time- early even, and made it out the door by the time Keith finally woke up.

That didn’t happen often.

But today was different.

Shiro would quickly take small glances at Keith who was spinning in slow circles with the chair. An immature move that everyone did. Keith caught his gaze and raised an eyebrow in confusion, Shiro just gave a small chuckle and shook his head. He was such a _dad._

Allura walked in, not even a moment later in her off white sun dress with a dark pink sweater over it. If somehow a teacher could dress like a sixteen year old girl and pull it off, then Allura was that teacher. She made a vague comment about Keith’s bag in the middle of the floor which Keith brushed off. She saw Shiro and gave an amused laugh followed by a statement about Shiro finally being on time to class for once. It probably sounded like the start to a porno but Keith wasn’t really paying attention.

He was just thinking about… something.

Something small and meaningless that he really couldn’t recall after Allura exited the room, but not before turning to Keith.

_“Don’t give Shiro too much hell today Keith. I think he’s already met his max for adulting today.”_

_“Yeah Keith. Go easy on me.” Shiro laughs._

_“Somehow at twenty five you can still manage to act like a six year old- oh wait. You are.” Keith smirks as Shiro rolls his eyes._

_“What would I do without you insulting me all the time?”_

_“Probably perish.”_

_A laugh._

_“Hey Keith! I’ll see you after school ok?”_

_“Yup. See you.”_

_-_

Someone pulled the fire alarm.

Another screamed.

There were gun shots.

Students ran for the door in a flurry of terror.

Silence.

That’s all he remembered.

  _Isn’t that just sad?_

_-_

Lance knew this was an idiotic thing to do. He realized that when he first came up with the idea, it reminded him on the bus and even now as he is walking through the empty Garrison hallways- this was an idiotic idea.

Yes, because it’s one hundred percent OK to ask a teacher about a student who died five years ago, or to explicitly mention a shooting that people knew was a touchy subject. Call him rude for doing something like this, but he didn’t really see a different way to do it. He was being haunted, or whatever you might call their interactions now, by this teen who _died at this school._ Lance at least wanted to know what exactly happened. Was that too much to ask?

Probably.

He hesitated in front of Shiro’s door. The lights were on and Shiro was sat at his desk grading papers from one of his classes. Lance had never been so thankful for this guy’s punctuality- he was always at school early and Lance was quite impressed with that. It just meant much more right now because if Lance’s plan fails then there will be no one to laugh at him. Hwyy that terror is running through his mind, he doesn’t know.

He has to stop procrastinating.

Shiro turned and saw Lance enter the room. He had a look of surprise on his face, probably by the fact that class hadn’t started yet and here Lance was- for some reason…

Inside Lance was silently dying. His heart was beating faster than it should because he was downright terrified. Now he had major respect for Shiro. He had to be one of the coolest teachers ever and overall just the greatest person- he really didn’t want to mess that up today! Maybe Shiro would hate him after this.

Oh god that’s definitely going to happen.

Don’t back out Don’t back out Don’t back out Don’t back out

“Hey Lance, what can I do for you?”

Oh shit here we go.

“Hey Shiro! Uh, I’ve got a weird question for you.” He let out a shaky breath and pulled up a chair to professor’s desk. Was Shiro always this intimidating?

Shiro set it pen down and added a paper to a slowly growing stack in the corner of his desk. “Are you ok? You look nervous.” Lance smiled the best he could. If he could make it through the first couple minutes, then everything could be fine! Maybe Shiro didn’t know Keith! Or at least didn’t have much to do with him. Lance was only now realizing how much of a mistake he had made coming here- he really didn’t know what to do if he did acquire information on Keith; just stand up, say thank you and walk away? That’s kind of a dick move!

“So, I want to talk to you about a person. You may or not know him, if you didn’t know him then you might have heard of him- I don’t know. You were my best lead and- oh god I am freaking out here.” Lance says, covering his face with his hands and groaning loudly. He slowly sinks back into his seat, wishing he could just blend into the cushion or something.

Shiro hesitated, looking at Lance with confusion. “Wait, so you want to talk to me about a person? Is he, I’m assuming that he’s male, in this school? Because I can’t give out information on students Lance. I would believe that you were aware of this.”

“Yeah, I am. But he doesn’t go here anymore and all I need is basic information!” Lance pleads, “C’mon Shiro! Help a guy out here!”

“Even if he doesn’t go here anymore, I cannot give out info to anyone who comes in asking. That is a violation of privacy, Lance. I’m sorry.” Shiro moved to get out of his seat causing Lance’s anxiety to spike. Impulsive behavior, here we come.

“Shiro wait!”

“I told you, you can’t get information from me.”

“But!-“ Lance tried.

“Lance!” Shiro was standing now, moments from walking out, “This is a rule, no ifs, ands or buts. You are a nice guy and a tolerable student- honestly I have nothing against you- but I am _not_ breaking the Garrison code so you can learn more about your crush or whatever this is.”

…

Crush?

Oh.

That can’t be it.

“He’s dead Shiro.”

Shiro visibly stiffened at the soft words. He turned, eyes narrowed in concern. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I said he’s dead!” Lance repeats, “He’s dead and he’s never coming back, but all I want is the smallest amount of information on him! Holy fuck- all I know is that his name is Keith and he’s this broody ass of a guy who is always reading some weird ass book for some reason and he’s kind of an asshole, but he has feelings! He may have been horrendous to deal with for a while, but he just wanted attention! The guy is lonely as fuck and he doesn’t have anyone left and all I want to do it help him, he’s been dead for five years but those are five years he can never get back, those years are just going to add up and up and. He’s dead but he doesn’t deserve to be. I- “ Lance breathed deeply, breath hitching. “I just want to know something. It’s stupid to think that you would help me.” He finishes, standing up and kicking his chair back with a small screech, picking up his bag and walking towards the door. “It was a bad idea to even come.”

“Lance wait!”

But he wasn’t listening. No one cared about a guy who has been dead five years to long- nothing can change that. There’s no magic spell or whatever the hell to bring back the dead, Keith isn’t just going to wake up from a coma and be all better. That’s not going to happen. As bizarre as the situation already is, it’s still real life. Stuff like that doesn’t happen because Lance’s life is not fiction. It’s real and it hurts.

Oh how it fucking hurts.

-

“Keith where are you?” Lance asked the second he walked back through the door.

“Lance?” Another voice answered, “Aren’t you supposed to be at school? What are you doing here?” Melody appeared in front of Lance with a worried look, towel in hand while the other was on her hip.

“Well of course you’d be here right now.” Lance groaned, looking away and explicitly avoiding all eye contact. “Uh, well of course I’d be here! I live here too in case you’ve forgotten. Why aren’t you at school, and who’s Keith?” She questions, Lance could tell by her tone that she was getting irritated.

“It doesn’t matter; it’s not like you are here enough anyway so you wouldn’t know anything.”

“Woah, ok mister. What is up with that attitude?” She sputters while Lance makes a beeline for the stairs. “I’m skipping school; I don’t feel well.”

The bedroom door slammed, leaving Melody in the dust both confused and irritated. What the hell had gotten into that boy?

It wasn’t a surprise to Lance when he heard the jangle of keys and the front door shut a couple minutes later. Of course she would leave, what else was she good at?

Lance had thrown himself on his bed and absent mindedly wrapped himself in his blankets. He breathed deeply into the soft fabric as his eyes threatened to overflow with tears. That conversation with Shiro had gone horrible, and to top it off there was Melody and- god where was Keith?

A small dip in the mattress and a cold ghost of a hand in his hair answered his question.

Did Keith think he was asleep? This hasn’t happened before, or at least not on Lance’s record. Did he do this often? Because if so that is adorable- wait. Did he really just think of Keith as adorable?

Lance leaned into Keith’s touch with a small sigh, causing the other man to freeze. “Are you awake?” Keith whispered. “Yeah,” Lance mumbled, “But don’t stop. That feels nice.” Keith hesitantly started massaging his fingers into Lances scalp, earning a happy groan. It should have been awkward but it worked. Lance laid out on the bed, Keith sitting, legs crossed, in front of Lance’s head; Lance’s head could fit perfectly in Keith lap right now, but instead the two just relaxed. Lance breathed softly and Keith watch as the other fell asleep.

-

Blue eyes opened to a sight that he would never get tired of- Keith. Or more so Keith sitting on his bed immersed in a book. Call it weird and kind of creepy for Lance to find that scene appealing, but Keith being calm was really nice. Lance sat up, blankets pooling around him to see that Keith had diverted his attention to the other resident. He self-consciously ran his hand through his hair, it was probably a mess right now. He really shouldn’t care, but he had an image to maintain.

“You ok?” Keith questioned once Lance found his way off the bed. “Huh? What are you talking about?” the brunette questioned mid-stretch. Keith raised an eyebrow, “You came in and threw yourself on the bed in a fit of rage. You were moments away from tears.”

“What.”

“We had a bonding moment? I cradled you in my arms, how do you not remember that?”

“Nope, don’t remember, didn’t happen. Also that’s super gay bro.” Lance yawned leaving Keith in utter shock. The shock quickly passed and was replaced with a small smirk as Keith got a small idea.

He scoffs, “and you call me gay but I _know_ you enjoyed my fingers in your hair.”

“Woah, that’s a low blow Keith. Am I not allowed to indulge in things occasionally?” He defended, but then he noticed the look pasted on the other males face.

“Ha! So you do remember!” Keith exclaimed.

“Uh… Still no clue what you are talking about!” Lance sweats, a pillow being thrown at him a moment later caused him to shriek, despite that the pillow barely touched him.

Getting over the initial “shock”, he started laughing again only for a smile to be tugged onto Keith’s face. “Keith, how are you so bad at aiming?”

“Maybe I don’t want to hit you.” The ghost replied.

“Dude that’s gay.”

“Do you have any other reaction to things besides the fact that I’m gay? That’s already pretty evident.”

The small statement was rewarded with Lance deadpan staring Keith down in shock.

“I swear Lance if you ask if I’m gay he next thing I throw at you will actually reach its target.”

The younger male paused and raised his eyebrow joined by a cocky smile, “Does Keith is gay?” The next object to fly through the air was a book that hit Lance squarely in the face.

“Ow, ow , ow never mind you actually have great aim, Jesus Christ.” Lance sputtered holding his face. It would be a lie to say that Keith didn’t get satisfaction out of that- but with Lance, small things like that don’t last long.

“The joke would have been better is I knew your last name.”

“Go impale yourself on a dick.” Keith growled.

By now both teens were sitting down, Lance’s reposition on the floor to the bed happened without hesitation. The move was suspicious and Keith knew that the next thing out of Lance’s mouth would make him want to die- nope, that was the wrong wording. He was already dead. It may have been Lance’s contemplating expression that predicted the next question, that expression never held any real value on Lance’s face. but if you looked past it enough then it might have been considered cute. Then that thought completely fades and it replaced with sheer and utter frustration. It’s the circle of life.

“Can you have sex?”

“Lance for fucks sake-“ Lance snickered at that-“ I am a ghost! I’m dead, that means I’m not breathing nor have any working organs and that includes my fucking dick.”

“Hmm… but you can touch me, so how does that work?”

“Like this-“ Keith leaned over and effectively shoved Lance off of the bed, hitting the floor with a heavy thump. The silence that followed didn’t last long because soon enough Lance started laughing. Keith covered his own mouth to smother the smile that had formed while Lance just laid on the floor laughing. Their compatibility rate was through the fucking floor but there was something about the two’s interactions that made Lance so happy, he looked forward to seeing Keith, even from the beginning when he was a little shit. They were probably destined to be really good friends- or enemies- probably both or some shit like that in another life.

Who knows? Maybe in another life they were closer in age- it still slips from Lance’s mind that Keith is actually twenty three at the moment. Maybe they would have met somewhere and hated each other only to meet again and still hate each other. Maybe they’d end up being friends at some point and fight aliens with giant space cats. The possibilities were endless, but for some reason the one with giant space robots stuck in his brain like glue. It’s kind of stupid, but Lance has lived with a ghost for a while now and one can in fact gain life lessons from an experience and bazar as that once.

Keith was tolerable, maybe a little more so then most. He was hot headed, quick to pick a fight, a bit of a lonely asshole- the list can go on but Lance cut it off there. The rest of the things were ones that he shouldn’t think about. Obviously Keith’s and his’s relationship would never be more then what they had now.

And for lack of better words-

It really fucking sucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck this chapter is so late.  
> BUT I REWROTE THIS SEVEN TIMES SO-- I'm not sure if you guys know this, but I really try to get out well written chapter for you. I try to not half ass things, so when I got a thousand words into this and realized it wasn't working, I deleted it- now multiply that by 7. I think this chapter was a little shitty, but I blame it on my large absence in writing it? I really don't know, but I tried.  
> Your feedback has been super nice, and I love hearing from you guys. It means the world to me and lets me know if I'm writing decent content: )
> 
> Quick PSA-  
> Keith is dead. I didn't think I'd have to specify that but in some ghost fics the people aren't actually dead and its weird.
> 
> 2- I do not plan for this fic to be over ten chapters- I am working on the ending, it might get depressing depending on what rout I'm going on. This fic was NOT suppose to be long, according to my notes I was suppose to get to this point in the story in chapter 3. But because of you guys and my impulsive writing abilities it's going to be longer.  
> Shit is getting serious oh damn.
> 
> Again, THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT! Please tell me if I made any mistakes or if things are confusing, I know perspectives jump around but I tried my hardest. COMMENTS AND KUDOS MEAN THE WORLD TO ME - and yes i am aware this is listed two times each chapter but honestly stuff like that is my motivation.
> 
> (Tell me what you thought of keith i need to know.)


	6. Truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This doesn't even reach my minimum word count. I'm as mad about that as you are.

Keith’s life at the moment was pretty routine, as well as not the most interesting. The major downside of being a ghost was that he couldn’t sleep- out of all of the things that was the one he wanted. Keith wasn’t physically tired, but he was emotionally. At first it was from the sudden realization that he wasn’t breathing, and then that no one could see him. In all honesty, the situation was horrifying. Even though he could phase through shit or whatever, he never wanted to. He’s spent so long trying to cling onto the last moments of reality, and now that Lance was here, everything was worse than before.

Lance was reality. Day to day all Keith did was watch Lance, his movements, his expressions, his weird way of being excited for things. Over all Lance was unique and embarrassingly important to Keith. His old philosophy was to not get attached to someone, but that was when he was alive. He took for granite all of the things in life like most do, and now he could just watch time pass without getting to participate.

Sure, it was a little weird to watch Lance all of the time, and it was really embarrassing to get caught. When he was in that situation, it used to be fine; Lance knew Keith had nothing to do, but it was when Lance smirked and said something that made it worse.

  _“See something you like, mullet?”_

Reality is a bitch somedays.

Keith’s favorite moments were the small ones with Lance, where the two of them weren’t having some stupid conversation or trying to emotionally damage the other by bringing down their ego. The former was typically from Lance and the later was Keith’s. They had their things, not that they were proud of them or anything. There were those small moments of solitude where Keith feels like he’s breathing again. The ones where he might lean over Lance’s shoulder and watch him finish his school work, or the two will just lay on the couch in the dead of night conversing quietly. Lance would tell him about school and what Pidge and Hunk were up to, he’d talking about the cute kids in class or how much he misses his family. Of course some of the topics upset Keith, others made him happier but there’s somethings you can never get back.

Keith would run his hands though Lance’s hair, he knew they were cold and light but Lance encouraged it more than anything. At first it was weird, but it because a second hand nature. After the small conversations Lance would fall asleep leaving Keith to his own devices- witch wasn’t much. In short he would just watch Lance sleep. Call him creepy but what else would he have done? He just watched, still running his fingers though the soft brown hair. He would watch and listen to his relaxed breaths, see his eyes flicker gently behind his eyelids. Small mumbles of no importance as he rolled over. Details, details. They made everything all so much better.

Even when the younger male would wake up, he was as perfect as he could get. He would wake up so casually and it would be cute, unlike how Keith used to wake up. He pretty much would spasm awake, eyes wide and breathing hard no matter how his sleep was. What was even worse was when he used to fall asleep on the bus during freshman year…

But Lance woke up, tired eyes, hair mussed and sticking all over the place. If he saw Keith, he would mumble something unintelligible and try to fall asleep again. Keith had seen a nightmare before, the first one being in one of the first nights Lance lived in the house, there was only one more after that. Lance didn’t need comfort and Keith didn’t know how to comfort him, they kept their distance when those things happen. Lance was still so calm when he woke up and Keith would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous- a stupid thing to be jealous about but Keith really had no clue where his mind was nowadays. Probably detreating in a hole somewhere.

Who the fuck knows if he was cremated or not, it’s not like it was specified in the non-existent will he had. Typically, eighteen year olds don’t have to worry about spontaneously dying. But Keith did so his body was probably rotting in a hole somewhere becoming “one with nature” or some shit. Decomposition is a joy to think about.

Keith slowly untangles his fingers from the brunette’s hair, finding a way off of the bed. He took a small look back at Lance who was still sleeping peacefully. Soon he would wake up to the sound of an angry alarm and Keith would be laughing in the window at his frantic movements to turn the device off.

Keith blinked and then rubbed his eyes violently. He turned on his heel and left the room; he was getting too attached to something he could never have.

 

There was an envelope on his desk.

Coran walked up and placed a goddamn envelope on his desk, and then walked the fuck off as in ‘ nu- uh, this ain’t my problem boy.’ Which is absolutely not how he speaks, but Lance has seen that move before from his sister and that is what she said. Things get stuck in his brain, what could be done about it?

Pidge and Hunk were sitting next to him awestruck because in all honesty what the fuck just happened? Lance knew.

_‘Shiro why did you have to do this to me.’_

“Welp,” Lance sighed, gingerly picking up the envelope. He looked at the paper with utter disgust, “These must be my expulsion papers.”

“Lance what the fuck did you do?” Pidge screeched- Hunk’s reaction followed shorty and all hell broke loose. They didn’t gain any information on the context of the situation. Hunk would have been worried for him and Pidge would have murdered him or something like that.

“Dude no! You can’t be getting expelled! Are you actually getting expelled? I can’t lose my best bro!” Hunk cried enveloping Lance into a hug. “Buddy it’s ok! I think…?” Lance tried to assure the other, but that just caused Hunk to fret more. Pidge tried to take the envelope in the meantime but Lance was smart enough to keep his hand on the paper. A small ‘menacing’ look and he backed off.

“I don’t understand how you would be expelled.” Pidge stated adjusting his glasses, “You’ve done nothing wrong according to what I know.”

“Uh, can you get expelled by the demanding of information?” Pidge eyes widened, “Lance what did you do?!” He shrieked again while Lance shimmied out of hunks grasp. “Did you ask someone about Keith? Oh god please tell me you didn’t.”

“Well it’s not like you were going to tell me!”

“But you asked a teacher? If you had pried hard enough I would have given you information, I just was trying to see how much you cared but nooo…” Pidge drawled out the ‘o’ sound in exasperation, “you just had to make it hard on everyone and _ask a fucking teacher.”_ He snarled. Lance was taken back by this, he normally was by Pidge, but today the other seemed exceptionally pissed.

“Yes, I told a teacher Pidge! You were being super difficult, it seemed super douche to ask Keith because, in case you’ve forgotten, he’s fucking dead! Now let me just tear open this stupid piece of paper and get on with my life.” Lance yelled, ripping open the envelope with such force that the other two were scared he was going to rip the note. Lance unfolded the paper, weary eyes following his movements while he squinted at it until dropping his head against the desk.

“Uh, what does it say? Are you expelled?” Hunk questioned, scared for his friend’s wellbeing. And Pidge was just moping around. Honestly Hunk was a little tired of being left out of the loop with these two. HE only seemed to get bits and pieces of information so now nothing made sense. Lance grumbled lowly, “It says go to Shiro’s.”

“You better get your ass over there then boy.” Pidge sighed. “Time to accept your fate.”

“Ok wait what? Why would Shiro want to see you?”

“Because he fucked up.” Pidge casually responds to Hunks inquiry while Lance gathered his stuff. Hunk grimaced, “Really Pidge? That’s all I get to know?”

The younger of the pair popped his knuckles with a small, tired smirk on his face when Lance left the room after gaining an ok from Coran.

“Let me fill you in on all that Lance doesn’t know.”

…………………

The second Lance walked into Shiro’s empty classroom he saw the professor stand from his seat, the force pushing the chair a few feet from where it was previously. He looked a little worried, or possibly paranoid. Lance was sure that nothing good would come out of this conversation. The urgent expression on Shiro’s face said it all and Lance was longing for this to be over with already. Shiro started walking over, Lance not making eye contact, opting to stare at the floor instead. It was a really boring floor.

“Lance.” Shiro sighed. He didn’t look up. The floor was made of a pale material, the typical kind you would find in hallways of a school, in all honesty it wasn’t getting any more entertaining.

A firm hand rested on his shoulder, coaxing Lance to finally look up at the professor. “I’m sorry about yesterday Lance. You were just tyring to get information and I didn’t fully listen to you-“

“Don’t apologize.” Lance interjected. “I got angry and had stupid reasons for coming to you, so you can just suspend me for a couple days because I was actually trying to get you to break an important rule. I don’t know how that would lead you to apologize.

Shiro took a shaky breath, “Do you want to sit down?” He suggested, Lance shook his head. “Why am I here again? Just suspend me and get it over with alright?”

“Lance I’m not going to suspend you. I’m going to talk to you about what you wanted to know yesterday.”

“Oh right. Information on the kid who’s been dead for five years? I’m sure that doesn’t break your stupid rules.” Lance looked down at the floor again. He knew he looked pitiful, he didn’t want to, but he could feel his face contort into one of sadness and rejection. If he were to look back up at Shiro then he knew that he would see himself being looked down on. That was typically how it goes. The hand on his shoulder dropped.

“No, it doesn’t.”

The teen was confused, and looked up slightly to see the professor run his hand through the signature white puff of hair on his head. He took a deep breath.

“Keith was my little brother.”

Lance’s eye’s widened, in shock. “W-what?” He coughed out. “I’m sorry but are we talking about the same person?”

“Let’s see, his eyes were dark blue, he had a black mullet despite the fact that I had told him to cut it so many times.” Shiro gave a fond smile, one that Lance believed he wasn’t worthy enough to see. “ He looked like the edgiest person in school, but was a strait A student who just didn’t know how to make friends.”

Lance was really regretting not sitting down now.

“And yes, he died five years ago in the shooting.” Shiro walked past Lance and grabbed two chairs from an open table and positioned them to coax Lance into sitting down, which he did in a heartbeat in hopes to not break the mood.

“He was shot,” Shiro continued, “He lost a lot of blood by the time the ambulance came and the shooting was in cuffs being dragged away. Keith wasn’t dead yet, at least that’s what I was told when he was loaded onto the stretcher. The next time I saw him he was in a coma.” Lance sat in awe at how Shiro could so easily tell this information. If it had been anyone else, they would have probably been a sobbing mess. Shiro on the other hand made eye contact on small occasions, but majorly opting to stare at the white board in the front of the room. His eyes were filled with sadness- Shiro had never looked so tired before.

“I-I don’t know the medical side of it, but when I got to the hospital a while later the doctors told me that Keith wouldn’t survive and that they were doing all they could. At the time I was hopeful, but if I wasn’t then maybe the day I lost him wouldn’t have been so hard. I was the only person he had Lance. People saw him, they knew his name, but no one really cared. How did you find out about him Lance? Who told you?”

Lance was frozen on the spot, while Shiro had turned to him he was staring at the floor.

He didn’t believe it.

No.

This wasn’t what he expected.

“Um. Thanks.” Lance forced out. He could feel the tears begin to form, but he somehow managed to keep them in. “I’m sorry about freaking out, I just-“ Lance looked back up at Shiro. He could see the sadness in his eyes witch made the whole situation all too real. Shiro _knew_ Keith. They were _brothers._

“I just heard about him and I- I don’t know. I got upset? So sorry for making you talk about him. I know it must be hard.” Lance quietly continued, his voice at the point of almost mumbling.

“He was a good kid Lance.” Shiro smiled, “And he probably would have hated you.”

“That’s nice to know.” He let a small smile creep onto his face- he wouldn’t have expected any less.

…………….

It seemed to be a theme now to see Lance drag himself through the door in an obvious state of distress. He drag his feet, stomp up the stairs and throw himself on the bed. This time Keith didn’t go comfort him, it wasn’t his place this time. He didn’t know why Lance was acting this way, but he had told himself to not get attached.

Might as well not go in any deeper.

Pretty soon Lance fell asleep, it looked to be an uncomfortable- in between sleep and consciousness- sleep, but it was sleep nonetheless. It was a flashback to the other day, but this time nothing was to be done about it. What if he just left. Where would that leave Lance?

Would he continue to be this way? Mopey and distressed, sleeping too late, bags under his eyes. It was either Keith’s fault or the Garrisons and he didn’t want to know the answer. Maybe he should just leave. He could disappear and watch from a distance again, never making a sound and just _exist_ among the wreckage of Lance’s life.

Lance would wonder where he is, and Keith won’t respond, he won’t move things. No response; quiet as the dead of night.

 No banging of chains and stupid jokes.

No staying up late with empty questions.

Nothing thrown against the wall or bright blue eyes assessing the room in confusion.

He was in too deep.

If only he could actually leave- this happened to be more torture, then the initial effects of death.

Death is only fine if you have nothing to live for.

Death is only effective when no one will miss you.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated and much needed. Aka I need the motivation to sit down and write this.  
> I have this story planned out but I've been lazy so sorry.  
> This hasn't been read through or anything so please tell me about confusing bits or errors!  
> Hopefully the next chapter will be posted soon : ) Love yall


	7. Missing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was more to this chapter but I decided not to go there yet... you'll understand soon.

It was another unusually sunny day.

No storm had graced the tow with its presence, but frost was being melted on the grass, glistening in the sunlight. It shined happily as bird calls became annoying, almost at the point where one would wonder if the birds were singing or screeching. Either way, they needed a new choir instructor because this morning they sounded like a train wreck. The car was gone indicating that Melody was still upset about Lance’s outburst previously. She had probably found a hotel by now and was contemplating coming back and demanding an apology. The note was in text form on Lance’s phone. The phone that he hadn’t picked up in over twenty-four hours, the phone that had one message from his sister and approximately sixty-three from Pidge and Hunk. No doubt that the two were wondering where Lance was, but Lance wouldn’t notice the onslaught of notifications until hours later when he wasn’t preoccupied.

Preoccupied with sleep that is, or hanging onto the last sweet moments of it until hunger and the need to urinate took over him. The blankets were warm and the pillow was soft, but the sun and birds were obnoxious along with the basic human needs. It still took him twenty extra minutes to tear himself out of bed.

He blinked around and rubbed his eyes, taking a quick glance around for his phone but gave up shorty. He would find it under his bed later once a stray alarm went off and made a horrifying noise of vibration pressed against the floor and the wall. He secondly looked for Keith, who also wasn’t there.

He wasn’t in the bathroom.

He wasn’t anywhere on the second floor.

He wasn’t downstairs.

Lance made a cup of coffee and decided he wasn’t hungry anymore.

The house was disturbingly quiet. Normally Lance would wake up and instantly see Keith, or Keith would still be on the bed with him from the previous night, but today he was nowhere to be seen. Lance might have played off the message that he didn’t want to talk about anything yesterday, but Keith would at least show up for a little.

On the other hand, Lance hadn’t seen him since that morning, and that morning Keith was being extra affectionate for some reason. So now where was he?

“Keith?” Lance called, setting down his mug that contained nearly boiling coffee. “Keith, buddy I know you are here somewhere.”

The air was silent in the room.

The sun still shined and the birds still screamed but those weren’t the answers he was looking for.

**-Non-Verified Ghostbusters-**

**Sharpshooter:** guys I cant find Keith

 **HunkOfSunshine:** What do you mean you can’t find Keith?

 **HunkOfSunshine:** Is he invisible or???

 **Sharpshooter:** missing as in I can’t find him

 **Sharpshooter:** anywhere

 **Pigeon:** this sounds like a job for the nonverified ghostbusters.

 **HunkOfSunshine:** Why is that still the group chat name?

 **Pigeon:** want me to change it?

 **HunkOfSunshine:** Let not. I would like to have one consistent thing in our lives please.

 **Sharpshooter:** but guys hes gone??????

 **Pigeon:** maybe it’s because you found out his backround, now that someone knows the tragedy he can “move on”.

 **Sharpshooter:** but that doesnt make sense

 **Sharpshooter:** also how did you know I found out the backstory

 **Pigeon:** it was kind of obvious.

 **Sharpshooter:** howwww????

 **HunkOfSunshine:** I love you bro, but you need to open your eyes somedays.

“Ughh” Lance sighs dropping his phone on the counter in fury. His coffee was still much too hot but that didn’t stop him from taking a drink and burning his throat in the process. Not a very pleasant feeling, but at the moment he was just kind of numb.

What if Keith did disappear for good?

No no, Lance assured himself. That wouldn’t happen, right? Didn’t ghosts disappear when their “journey was completed” or something? Lance just figured out Keith’s backstory and was a total ass to his brother, but that shouldn’t have effected Keith directly. Emphasis on ‘shouldn’t’ because Lance still had limit knowledge and inaccurate sources.

Why did Keith go missing now out of all times? Maybe he _wasn’t_ missing and instead lance was just over reacting. Maybe he had grown too fond his mullet- oh god Lance better not be going through a mullet phase.

But in all honesty, if Keith wasn’t here then where would he be?

 **Sharpshooter:** guys ghost is still missing

 **HunkOfSunshine:** Have you ate yet today?

 **Sharpshooter:** no

 **Sharpshooter:** not hungry

 **HunkOfSunshine:** Come over, I’m making food and we can talk about Keith then.

 **HunkOfSunshine:** You too Pidge.

 **Pigeon:** you are a fool to think I’d pass up free food.

 **Sharpshooter:** but what if I come back and hes not here?????

 **Pigeon:** then he’ll be there when you get back.

 **Pigeon:** also Hunk you better have coffee made. I’m supposed to be on a withdrawal.

 **Sharpshooter:** fine I’ll be there. I cant pass up my bros cooking anyway…

 **Sharpshooter:** also withdrawal from what?

 **Pigeon:** coffee.

 **HunkOfSunshine:** Than why would I give you coffee if you’re on a withdrawal?

 **Pigeon** : i’ve been awake for almost 48 hours now, not having coffee can equate into cruel and unusual punishment.

 **Sharpshooter:** give the pigeon his life force and I’ll be over soon.

…………………………………..

 Hunks home was cozy and warm. Every time he walked in he was just assaulted with the feeling of happiness and baked cookies, something you would feel at a loved grandmother’s house. The walls were a warm beige with a step-down living room filled with old cozy couches and a fireplace. A railing separated the drop off from the table and to the right was a kitchen bar where Pidge sat sleepily. Hunk was pulling out ingredients to make something that would probably be amazing. Everything Hunk made was amazing, even possible the coffee he made because Pidge looked like he was about to propose to the mug he was holding.

“Hey! Look who’s here!” Chimed Hunk while he started measuring out ingredients for the food heaven he was making.

“Don’t you mean, ‘look who showed up instead of having a mental breakdown in his room.’” Pidge added earning an unimpressed look from the cook.

“Well you are one to talk, I’ve dealt with your insanity before when things don’t turn out well for you.” He reminded.

“Oh don’t get me wrong!” Pidge laughed, “I might just be having a breakdown about this coffee because it’s _so good._ ”

Hunk stared blankly at the smallest of the three who was staring into the swirling black liquid like it was a hypnosis spiral. He just left Pidge there when Lance finally sat down and seemed to relax a bit.

“You’ve barely been here for five minutes and you are already looking better!” He commented, receiving a weak smile back from Lance. “See what just getting out of the house can do for you?”

“Yup,” Lance responded, leaning over the countertop a bit to see hunk continue to make his concoction witch main ingredient seemed to be chocolate based now. “Whatcha making?”

“Oh! I’m making chocolate muffins! They are super good and relatively fast and easy to make, I got the recipe when I was in a cooking class freshman year.”

Lance sighed with a small smile, “They smell good.”

“They taste even better.” Hunk assured.

“So are we going to talk about Keith now?”

“Yeah, that’s basically the reason you are here so might as well. Want to join in Pidge?” Hunk asked.

“Can I get more coffee?”

“The pot is right there; you can help yourself.” He says gesturing to the coffee pot behind him half filled with fresh, hot coffee.

Pidge took one look at the pot and then stared Hunk directly in the eyes. “I don’t have legs.” Lance started laughing and Hunk just looked confused. To prove his point Pidge purposely fell out of the bar stool and onto the ground with a crash. Hunk quickly looked around the bar to make sure Pidge was actually ok while Lance was preoccupied with laughter. Luckily Pidge was just lying on the floor staring at the ceiling in contemplation- both legs completely intact.

“Why does he always so this kind of stuff?” Lance laughed.

“No clue, but hey it’s got you smiling so it’s all good.”

“That wasn’t the initial intention.” Pidge muttered from the ground.

“If you get up then I’ll bring you more coffee.” Hunk bribed. “Nah I’m good here on the floor. It’s comfortable.” Pidge stated sincerely. The other two boys shared a confused look and let the subject go.

“So…” Lance drawled, looking up at Hunk expectantly.

“Keith.” The other replied with a sigh.

Lance took the opening gladly, “I just don’t understand why he would disappear! He’s never done this before, or at least recently. I normally wake up and he’s  there at the window reading a shitty book or on the bed with me!-“ Pidge snickered from the floor receiving a disappointed glare from Lance for interrupting him with his gremlin laugh. “It just doesn’t make any sense. He would show up at some time, or at least move something around- he does that a lot, I think he has a problem, but I don’t know.” He noted, “ Uhh, yeah, in short, he’s gone and I don’t know where he is.”

“You ever think he’s just ignoring you?” Pidge mumbled, getting off the floor and finding his previous seat again.

“He wouldn’t do that.” Lance assure him, but it was seeming to be more for himself than the other two in the room. “So Hunk, how long until food?”

“I just put them in the oven.” He smiles, setting down the oven mitts, “around twenty to thirty minutes depending on if they want to cooperate or not.”

A moment of silence washed over the three beside the gentle hum of the oven. Despite the comfortable surroundings Lance still felt uneasy. There wasn’t any real reason for Keith to be avoiding him, and there was no way for him to have figured out that Lance talked to Shiro. Hell, if Keith was ok with Shiro being Lance’s teacher, which he did know about, then there is no reason to get upset about it. The two had never talked about the death before, they also have never really made a big deal about it. Sure Keith was a ghost, but he had feelings still? Lance saw more in him then he probably should have, and it must have been evident on his face because Pidge gave him an exasperated look.

“You’re thinking of Keith again.”

“It’s hard not to?” Lance tried to protest, but he failed because he just got eyes rolled at him.

“I’m sure you can resist thinking about Keith,” Pidge assured him, “unless you have a crush or something?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.” Hunk agreed. Lance sputtered for a moment, “No! How could I have a crush on Keith?” The other two just blankly stared at him, obviously not buying it.

“I don’t even swing that way?” Lance suggested and Pidge burst out laughing. “You don’t ‘swing that way’? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say oh my god.” He laughed, clutching his sides. “I’ve heard you go on a rant about how you want Shiro to strangle you, don’t even think you can play the straight card on me.”

“Yeah, it’s a little obvious that you don’t just like girls.” Hunk agreed with a sorry smile.

“Don’t expose me.”

“You’ve exposed yourself already.” Pidge countered dully. “Hunk I need your cooking! I’m hungry and also your cooking might cure Lances ability to have feelings!” He yelled.

Hunk looked at the younger male with disappointment, “It’s been five minutes Pidge. Also If Lance didn’t have feelings then he wouldn’t be Lance anymore.”

“Yeah. That’s the point.” Sassed Pidge causing Lance to gasp in exasperation. “How dare you?”

“Someday I will enter a room and one of you will be dead, or at least mortally wounded. I swear you two have got it out for each other.” Hunk mumbled watched his friends bicker.

“Hunk! Convince this gremlin I don’t have a crush on Keith!”

“You have a crush on Keith.” He sighed in response. “How could you do this to me Hunk? I thought we were friends!!”

“We are friends! And friends tell friends that they have a weird, uh,-“

“Spectropillia, or an attraction to ghosts.”

“Yes! That! Thanks Pidge- wait how do you even know that?” He was met with a blank look. “And never mind… but lance you need to take into consideration that-“

“It will never work!” Chirped and optimistic Pidge.

“Why are you guys my friends?” Lance says. “Because you don’t have anyone else.” Pidge responds with false sympathy.

Hunk sighs, “Well I’m not sure about Pidge, but I’m just trying to help you. You do realize that at some point either you or Keith will leave, move on, whatever it is that happens, but you guys won’t be a thing. It’s not that probable.”

“You are breaking my heart here Hunk.”

“I know, I know, but hear me out. There is really nothing you can do at this moment. Chances are that you will get back and Keith will be there so that part of your life will be sorted!”

“Mmhm,” Pidge agrees with a small nod, “But after that you have to know there are two choices, number one is to continue living like this and number two is to let him go.”

Lance contemplated what the two had said, there really wasn’t much else to do. From the start there wasn’t much he could do, it was a feat in itself to even talk to Keith so anything else was clearly too much. He was really torn between choices right now; life wasn’t being that kind to him. Or death for that matter because a ghost was the source of his problems right now.

“But you know, if all else fails we can pull some Supernatural stunt and go burn his bones and shit.” Pidge says.”

“Oh god no. That show barely makes any sense, it’s also super scary we are not trying to replicate anything that show has done.” Hunk responds.

“Wait, you’ve actually watched some of it?”

“I got to the episode with the bugs and then I stopped.” Hunk says, face going a bit pale. “It was horrible.”

“I’m impressed you even got that far, wow good job buddy.” Lance muses, Hunk looked uncomfortable though and shook his head violently as if to diminish the memories of the show from his mind.

Pidge laughed at the two and proceeded with his statement, “But it might work! I mean, ghosts exist, we have living, or dead if you will, proof of that they do. Yet we would still have to figure out if the information from the show is valid, although I doubt it is. It’s nothing a little research can’t handle.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Lance sighs. He isn’t ready for this.

…………………………

The trio had proceeded to talk and eat Hunks outstanding creations until well into the afternoon. The topic had changed from Keith to TV shows, back to Keith and then an abundance of stuff that Lance couldn’t remember if he tried. His mind was still too wrapped around Keith, maybe he was getting a little out of hand. What disappointed him the most was arriving home to a place vacant of any and all ghosts. Keith still wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but Lance tried his hardest to play it off. He kind of had to because Melody returned home that night and Lance had to apologize for his previous actions.

He was sincerely sorry for being an ass before, and Melody forgave him like she always did. He didn’t mention Keith though; he couldn’t bring himself to do so after all the thinking and the talks with Hunk and Pidge. They were great friends and Hunk was right about everything he said, Pidge, on the other hand, was a bit harsher with his words but Lance needed that. If Keith was really gone then Lance would have to deal with it and nothing could be done. He might as well start here, he was a seventeen-year-old in a flight school, he could probably find some parties to go to and some people to meet. That’s normally what people his age did at least, he could fit in just fine.

But days went on and there was still no sign of Keith. Pidge said he was probably gone forever and Lance knew Hunk agreed despite his small words of hope. Without Keith Lance started to focus more on school getting some of his poorer grades up to the best of his ability. But on the other side, he was losing sleep and trying to stay as far away from his room as possible. His room _and_ the house.

He spent more time with Hunk and Pidge and studied in the commons after classes. Before long he would be certified to start the flight program, but that wasn’t ever what he was thinking about. Lance knew he had to stop thinking about Keith, but at this point it seemed impossible. He just… vanished without a word. One day he was sitting on Lance’s bed running his cold hands though Lance’s hair and then the next there was zero trace of him.

It wasn’t fair and it didn’t make sense.

That’s what led him here. To a place where a lot of mistakes were to be made, but to hopefully get Lance’s mind of his eternal moping. The music was loud and obnoxious, cranked up unnecessarily loud so one could barely hear their own thoughts. There were the typical red cups you’d expect to see all over the ground and people were making out in plain sight, not a care in the world. The house was nearly flooded with people all at different levels of intoxication and Lance only knew that by the end of the night he would be one of them. The bar wasn’t too hard to find being located next to a game of beer pong played by two girls. They seemed to be losing their clothes whenever one made a shot, but Lance wasn’t too interested at the moment. He let the person manning the drinks give Lance something that tasted bitter and lukewarm, but he thanked him anyway.

This was what he signed up for anyway.

The loud music, flashing multicolored lights and sweaty bodies soon were the only things perceivable and Lance just fell into it. Everything kind of faded away by the fifth drink and at one point he had someone’s tongue down his throat. He didn’t know who’s it was but really all the faces looked the same at this point in time. Games were played, saliva exchanged, it was a party that Lance was lost in and trying desperately to escape. He didn’t know what time it was; he didn’t know how many drinks he’d had or what he was even drinking now. It was just the rush of adrenaline that kept him going as long as he did. The feeling of being weightless with the underlying aspect of regret chewing at his throat. At one point he started crying. He knew that much but he didn’t know why. Something was on his mind, the reason for doing this was there but unreachable. He was crying for no reason anymore.

He couldn’t grasp what he had lost.

And then it was black.

…………..

Keith hated this.

He hated his more than he had ever hated anything else. He didn’t know what he was more upset about, Lance’s stupidity or _this._

It was enough for Lance to be upset. Keith probably would have been to if someone had just got up and left him alone but _this was utter bullshit._ To think that Lance would stoop so low as to do this was a stretch, but watching the Cuban hunched over the toilet seat retching his insides out proved that Lance was stupid enough to do _this._

Keith had tried his hardest to not do anything. He had stayed in his corner and not touched anything, opting to phase through walls despite his hatred towards it. He watched from a distance Lance work his ass off and wallow in his loneliness. Keith saw him avoid coming in his room and instead sleep on the couch as if the room was cursed. He was rarely home and rarely slept. Now he was here clutching the seat with white knuckles and a pale face trying to figure out what the fuck he had done.

Keith ached to just yell at Lance. He wanted to fucking yell and tell Lance how much of a mistake he had made doing that. He could have been hurt or drugged or killed and it may have just been a crazy party but Lance knew better. How could he have done this. If this was how Lance dealt with grief, then he wasn’t going to go too far in life.

But underneath his rage Keith also just wanted to walk over and hold Lance’s hair out of his face and prove that he was still there, but he couldn’t do that. It would be too hard for him. It’s one thing to disappear, it’s another to come back and say you can’t stay. That’s when people break and make the worst decisions and with the way Lance was going, he didn’t want to witness that.

The vibration of a phone against muddled bed sheets tore Keith away from the shaking form in front of him. He glanced over at the device. Lance’s friends were trying to get ahold of him, they were wondering where Lance was and what he had been doing the other night. It hurt Keith.

He knew Lance had friends. He knew they cared about him and here Lance was, utterly obsessed with his own head that he couldn’t even rely on this own friends to help him.

Lance had stumbled in the house early in the morning, tears staining his face and a small smile. He smelt of stale beer and sweat; basic part scents that anyone would love to forget. He tripped up the stairs and yelled unintelligibly in Spanish for a bit before bursting into tears again. His coat was missing and his shoes were untied. His hair was a mess and nothing about him was right. He fell asleep sniffling softly not much later with Keith sitting on the window seat, knees curled up to his chest and a pit in his stomach.

Why _this?_

_……………._

Lance’s head was screaming at him in pain as his stomach convulsed again. He dry-heaved, his mouth tasted of stomach acid and stale beer. He had thrown up everything he had ingested in the last twenty-four hours and it felt like he was going to puke his stomach up next. He vaguely remembered the night although he wishes he didn’t. The loud music the heavy grinding, it was a party alright. A party that he regretted going to in this aspect now. He hated throwing up, and being hungover wasn’t his cup of tea either. Not that he even liked tea anyway. He smelled horrible and he could barely hear his phone vibrating over his throbbing head. Who would be messaging him? Why would they be messaging him?

Everything was just too loud and nothing clicked into his mind. Why did he even go to that party, why the fuck did he think it was a good idea to get wasted over something so meaningless that he couldn’t even remember it anymore. He stripped of his wrecked clothes, not even bothering to shut the door as he stepped into the shower and closed the curtain. The water was steaming and threatened to push him over as his exhaustion took over. He stumbled a bit and then the water turned icy jolting him awake. It evened out to be lukewarm which Lance left it at.  He was _not_ going to pass out in the shower.

He pathetically washed himself, not really in the mindset to do anything he would normally do. He pulled on some boxers and an old shirt that he had got a few sizes too big a couple years ago. It still didn’t really fit him now, but he wasn’t going to change. The teen crawled into bed and buried himself under a pound of blankets and willed sleep to take him away. The buzzing on his phone didn’t stop and at one point it fell to the ground only to be caught by the absent figure in the back of Lance’s mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Half hazardly edits this chapter because I'm tired but feeling extra generous*  
> Hi yes I updated kind of on time?????  
> [aka I started waking up at 3am again with a will to do something productive and this is what you get]  
> Wow don’t you love my inconstant line breaks? Because sometimes they’re there and others they’re not haha. They also never match but you know I can’t be bothered to read through and change things, that would be ridiculous.  
> Ok but in all honesty the first chapter of this fic is fucking horrible so I will end up rewriting some of it later. I read it and it makes me want to die gah.  
> these notes are an actual clusterfuck so sorry. but 900 HITS?? 90 KUDOS??? Thank you all so much!!  
> But I love to hear peoples thoughts on this fic so i love all of your comments to death, even if i don't respond to them i check all the time and re-read them when i need motivation. All your comments help!  
> I'm thinking of starting a tumblr if yall would be interested, i might post some of my shitty drawings on there- tell me what you think!  
> I love hearing from you guys and have a good night/day : ) <3


	8. Confirmation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will sound weird but... spoilers to "Pet Cemetary" by Steven King ahead?  
> (also guess whos back? Me hah)

_“Lance where the fuck were you?”_

Lance winced at the harsh voice being transmitted through the receiver, slightly pulling the phone away from his ear so the yelling wasn’t at its full intensity.

 _“You said that you would meet up with us, and when we went looking for you at the school you weren’t there. We went to your house and **you weren’t there.** Your phone was turned off and no one could find you. It may seem like I’m a heartless asshole somedays but you scared us!” _ Pidge yelled. He could hear Hunk in the background trying and failing to get Pidge to calm down.

“I’m sorry.”

 _“You’re sorry? Oh Hell yeah you are sorry, you scared us to death. Don’t do that again.”_ Pidge snapped, and then the phone was transferred. “ _Hey Lance…”_ It was Hunk, he was probably just as upset as Pidge was. There was a small sniffle heard before he continued, _“Um, we were really worried about you so don’t pull a stunt like that again ok? We weren’t sure where you went, but if you jest left to be alone then you should have still told someone.”_

There was rustling on the line, “Leave _it alone Pidge,- yeah yeah I think he understands now- Lance? Just be careful and don’t do anything stupid, please?”_

“Ok.” The line went dead and Lance’s throat was scratchy and he couldn’t seem to get enough air into his lungs. The bed was comforting but the last thing he wanted to do was sleep. The small fear of not waking up glowed in the back of his mind. It was irrational, it was stupid but he couldn’t find a valid reason to sleep of his hangover now. Melody saw him come home apparently because the disappointed look on her face when he stumbled down the stairs was evident.

She didn’t say a word and that was more nerve wracking then her yelling at him.

He slipped on his shoes and took a moment to realize that his coat was missing. Of course it was. That was his favorite coat. Sourly he walked outside and followed the road through the neighborhood. He would admit, going to that party had been a giant mistake. At this moment he tried to think that he was better than to get roped into the life style of drinking until there was nothing left of him. He tried to convince himself that it was a onetime thing and he would never do it again because who the fuck would willingly do that to themselves?

Lance would.

He gets in to fucking deep. He needs validation for his efforts or else it seems like the world is choking him. At that party he was the same as every other sweaty body and drunk mind both inside and outside the house, he could do what he wanted, face the consequences in the morning, and then do it all again.

Maybe it was possible to be addicted to hurting yourself.

The grass was green and the sky was cloudy.

Not that he was going that way. He was just hungover and confused and way too out of it for his own good. He should have just stayed home and done his work, maybe then he wouldn’t be dealing with this crisis.

The sound of children playing caused him to stop dead in his tracks.

“I want the ball!”

“No you already got your turn!”

“For like, five seconds!”

“Well it’s my turn now so ha!”

Two young boys were running around with a black ball, fighting about who would have it. A childish banter, perfectly expected from children their age. At the same time, it was enduring and Lance couldn’t help but give a small smile at the scene. It reminded him of home, his younger siblings would play around like this all the time until they got yelled at by mamma. Lance would sometime try to stop it but fail miserably. Children were weird beings, somehow they can know nothing and then everything in a blink of an eye.

Lance got shaken back to reality as a drop of water hit his nose, and then the ground, and then his shirt. The kids had stopped arguing and instead gave huffs of disappointment as the mother walked outside and herded them inside the house. She noticed Lance and gave a small smile to him before following the children.

There Lance was, standing still on the side of a sidewalk-less road staring up at the dark clouds hovering in the sky. Drops fell heavier and harder as Lance began to laugh, small and quiet erupting into laughs of joy. The rain kept it’s pace as Lance starting walking again, running his hand through his already soaked hair, effectively slicking it back off his forehead.

“Is it raining where you are?” He whispered, “The only thing I could think to ask.” The sky answered with a rumble cascading more water drops onto the concrete.

“But nothing ever hurt so bad, as the ‘no’ that you said back.” He started again, a song he heard once. It wasn’t his favorite at the time, but those songs lyrics always stick with you he’d learned.

“But that ain’t the truth man, those are just facts.”

“The farther you go from where you start, the harder it is to get back,” “Love of my life- gone forever.”

“Love of my life- gone for good.”

The tune continued walking back to the house, a name dancing on Lance’s tongue but never daring to spill out. The heavy feeling in his chest dragging him down.

He always got in a little too deep.

…..

Rain continued to fall relentlessly in large drops leaving wide, shallow puddles on the ground. No umbrella, not even his coat to keep himself dry as the water soaked into his thin baseball tee. But through the rain and the thunder and wet clothes causing the teen too shiver occasionally, a small smile had found its way to his lips. There was something overall amusing about his current predicament. Here he was walking in the rain without a care in the world the day after going to a shitty party and throwing his stomach up because of his stupid drunkenness. But only after freaking out because of a ghost that he once hated was now missing and the only thing Lance wanted was that ghost back. How many people would ever deal with this situation? How many unfortunate lives would succumb to this type of insanity? Because Lance was really looking forward to the answer. The small desperate voice in the back of his head swore that others had to have experienced this before and he wasn’t just the only one. A silly one though, he knew it was but his thoughts have been a little scrambled recently.

The home came into view shortly, trees dropping heavier pockets of water onto his soaked frame while he walked through the lawn. So much water, such little time. God love mother nature for this type of unconventional bullshit. Too bad if they thought rain would get Lance down because he hadn’t stopped smiling since the first rumble in the sky. Something about the rain would always be comforting to Lance, it made him seem human to stand in the down pour and just wait it out. His mother would always get so mad at him and tell that he would get sick and it wasn’t safe. His father would just laugh as Lance went back outside moments after being yelled at.

He loved the coolness of the water seeping through his clothes and how it dripped down from his hair. The scent of rain and soil were the perfect combination scent he could think of. More calming then lavender which was normally over saturated by brands. He tended to avoid products with a really strong lavender smell, but he got some occasionally because who sells products with the scent listed as mud?

Lance found himself just standing in front of the house, eyes glued to where his rooms window looked out. In his mind he could almost see Keith sitting there reading like he normally would. His black mullet pulled up, absentmindedly swiping at his bangs every few moments. The book being held in one hand while the other flipped the pages. If Lance thought herd enough he could see those piercing eyes meet his-

“Lance!”

Lance jerked his head away from the window only to find Pidge, halfway out the door looking pissed as all hell.

“What are you doing out here? It’s cold and I swear if your ass gets sick then I am going to murder you. We have an assignment to work on _and_ some shit to discuss so get in here!”

Another longing look at the window proved that he truly was just making things up. No one was sitting there.

It was hard to tell if the water blurring his vision was the rains fault or his.

Once through the door he unsurprisingly found that Hunk had accompanied Pidge. They were sitting on the couch, Hunk looking a bit upset and Pidge looking like he could kill someone without a second thought.

He entered the room, eyes drifting to him. “Hey guys.” He tried with a small smile. Hunk jumped up from the couch and enveloped him in a hug that he didn’t know he needed until now. The hug was returned while Hunk rambled on for a good minute on how worried he was. The tone was different then on the phone, he was disappointed on the phone and now he just sounded… relieved. Pidge just looked done with everything and lance couldn’t blame him for, he was done with everything as well.

Once the embrace was completed the two walked back to the couch where lance was shocked by the sight of his coat neatly folded on a cushion. The teen gawked at the material for a moment before meeting, or at least trying to meet, his friend’s eyes who opted to look anywhere else.

Pidge spoke up, “It reeks of alcohol and sadness so clearly you were at a party.”

“But, h-how?” He stuttered.

“There was only one party big enough to get like that so after we called we got to the house, a total shit show by the way, and retrieved your clothing.” He said with a sigh, “I also really hope you didn’t leave anything else there because I’m not going back.” Pidge added.

“Right after we came here to check on you.” Hunk smiled, sitting awkwardly tense on the sofa seat.

“Yeah,” The youngest scoffed, “Not before he almost had a hernia from hearing you weren’t here.”

“I’m sorry but your best friend goes missing, you call them and they barely speak and then they are missing again? How can that not freak you out Pidge?”

“Melody said he was just outside, and wowie what do ya know! He was outside.”

“I worry. It was perfectly reasonable.” Hunk defended while Pidge just laughed, shaking his head to turn back to Lance. “I don’t think you need me to tell you that you’re an idiot again, but just so you know you’re an idiot. On the other hand, how’s the Keith situation going?”

Lance sighed heavily throwing himself on the couch and quickly regretting his decision. The couch was much too stiff for that and it would most likely mess up his back, but he just let the pain seep in. “Still nothing.”

“You know,” Pidge started, his legs pulled up so his head could rest on his knee, “maybe he’s actually dead.”

“Actually dead, pfff, sure. Like he wasn’t dead before.”

“No, I mean it!” He insisted, “Keith is a ghost, there is a chance he just had a timer, or I mentioned this before, a goal to reach before he could make it to the afterlife. If that is the case then it’s a good thing he’s gone. Earth is pretty hellish.”

“But he didn’t tell me?!” “Lance you are missing the point of this.”

“You know what? Maybe I am.” Lance snapped sitting up and staring a bored Pidge in the eye. “We have no proof of anything how can we know?”

“If you look at the facts, there really aren’t any. With barely anything to state out claim that Keith is somehow ‘alive’ then no one will care. It’s hard enough to convince people of actual facts so with the information we have gathered we sound like children.”

“Wait, but if we can’t prove it to others then how can we prove it to ourselves?” Hunk commented causing all three teens to freeze up. “There really aren’t many facts to do anything with so we can’t tell if Keith is here or if he is not here.” “We could always find his grave and perform an exorcism?” The smallest male smiled. Hunk shuddered and instantly shut down the idea. “Number one, invasion of privacy. Number two, absolutely not. You suggested this before Pidge and it doesn’t make sense as to why we would follow a TV show.”

“TV can be a reliable resource!”

“Animal Planet and the history channel at some points _can_ be informational, but not _that_ show.”

“I don’t get why you are hating so much.” Pidge grumbled as Lance laughed at the sheer frustration Hunk was building due to Pidge’s fuckery.

“You realize I’m joking right?” Pidge breathed.

“It took some time.”

….

“So what do you guys know about exorcisms?”

The group have moved upstairs to Lance’s room after being given a few really confused stares from Melody when she walked into the living room. It’s not every day you see your younger brother having a breakdown and then instantly transitioning to talking to his friends about exorcisms. Honestly, it was too much for the girl and she was considering therapy for both herself and Lance. You move out and instantly your life goes to hell she thinks as she passes by Lance’s room just to hear the continued conversation. God, she hoped it was for a school project.

“Oh!” Lance piped up, “I read pet cemetery once!”

“That book is about resurrections Lance.” Pidge deadpanned, the other just shrugging. “But didn’t they exorcise the kid in the end?” Hunk questioned making Lance laugh.

“Nah. The kid killed almost everybody and then his dad killed him again and… oh shit did he resurrect his wife after that?” He started mumbling, eyes going to the floor in thought. “Well, either way, it was shitty book the horror only happened in the last twenty pages which I skimmed over because i just wanted the thing to be over. Plus, the book was four weeks late to the library because I got bored with it easily.” Lance explained to the other two, Hunk looking interested and Pidge looking a little concerned for Lance’s health.

“Why do we need to know this information?” Pidge asked raising his eyebrows at the teen in question.

“Hey you asked!” “I asked if you knew anything about exorcisms not about your thoughts on Steven King!”

“Well sorry for getting sidetracked, I’m very passionate about my dislike for that book. Have you ever read it?”

“Yes!” Pidge yelled, a smile crawling on his face from the bizarre conversation, “I have read it and it was interesting despite it having no real explanation.”

“Yeah, ‘interesting’. It was boring Pidge.” He laughed.

The smallest sighed at Lance’s antics and turned to Hunk, “Do you have anything?”

“Oh me? I’ve never read any Steven King Books, I’m not a fan of horror.” He stated calmly whilst Pidge looked about four seconds away from murdering someone.

“Don’t read any of them!” Lance yelled, “They all suck!”

“You have read only one of them Lance!” Pidge argued. “That’s not true! I also read half of The Shining and I swear if I read about another room tour I would have burned that book. And I also flipped to a random page in IT and there was an orgy going on?”

“There was a what?” Hunk asked, baffled. Pidge had to laugh about that one, “Ok yes all the kids have an orgy in that book.” He confirmed.

“See? Head cannon, Steven King had a shit ton of problems.” “That’s not even a head canon, I’m pretty sure it’s a fact.” Pidge laughed. “And I was asking Hunk about exorcisms not about Steven King! We have a job to do guys!” He tried to insist because the number of times this group got off task was uncanny. They almost need a moderator.

The group managed to focus on Pidge after a few moments of wrapping up the spontaneous conversation about Steven King books. “So, what are we trying to do again?” Hunk asked. He seemed very uneasy about the topic of exorcism. “I was iffy about ghosts at first but doing this might be even worse.”

“I- I really don’t know.” Pidge admitted, “Lance needs to find out if Keith is actually still here first, and he had to do it _safely.”_ He glared at Lance who slightly shrunk away from the eyes.

“Speaking of that, how’s your head Lance?” Hunk asked who was the only one who had shown genuine concern so far unless Pidge could only show concern through yelling at people through phones and showing up angrily at people’s houses.

“Pounding.” Lance smiled. “I don’t think Keith is here guys. He hasn’t shown up once, nothing is off or different. It’s easy to tell that he’s here but now he’s just gone.”

“Have you looked?”

“W-what? Pidge, oh my god, you think I would have claimed he was missing without looking for him?” Lance sputtered awestruck. “Yeah, actually. I believe you would do that.” Pidge admitted. Lance balked at the gremlin, “You really have no faith in me.”

“I really don’t. So where is your boyfriend buried?”

“Not my boyfriend?”

He waved Lance off, “We need to know where he was buried in order to do the ceremony.”

“Don’t put it like that Pidge, it sounds so creepy.” Hunk pleaded, “also who even buries people anymore? Didn’t we switch to cremation forever ago?”

“That would make more sense,” Lance assessed, his brown furrowing slightly “Keith didn’t appear to be the guy who would want to buried.”

Lance looked up from the spot he was staring into on the floor to see an unimpressed Pidge. He had his eyebrow raised in irritation and a small scowl on his lips. “That’s just fucking great, it won’t work now.”

“What do you mean it won’t work!?” The other two yelled.

The smallest pushed his glasses up and took a deep breath, “It won’t work because how the hell are we going to find ashes? Most of the time ashes are spread across some beach in the middle of nowhere unless you’re my mom who keeps people’s ashes in jars in her closet.”

“Hoy fuck your mom does what.”

“Don’t think too much into it Lance, actually a lot of people keep ashes.”

“They do!” Hunk smiled, “It’s a way of keeping loved ones close when they can no longer be with you.”

Lance stared at his friends in shock and suspicion before giving up on the topic altogether. There was no point in asking anymore, it wouldn’t get him anywhere. “So…” He huffed, “Do we just go up to Shiro and ask where Keith’s remains are? Because that will definitely raise more questions than answers.”

“Yeah let’s not ask the professor that.” Hunk agreed with Pidge shallowly nodding his head as an affirmative.

“Wait, hold up, sorry this just came to mind, but why would we need to perform an exorcism?”

“To expel the demon from inside Keith so he can rest in peace?” Pidge responded.

“Yeah, no. That doesn’t make sense though!” Lance argued, “Keith isn’t possessed by a demon, he’s just… Keith.”

“Woah descriptive.”

“No funny Pidge.”

Hunks eyes flickered between the two of them, “We could always go back to the old theory that Keith is just gone?”

“But he can’t be!” Lance yelled.

“You don’t know that!”

“Guys!” Pidge stood up, his face evident of his annoyance. “We are running in circles here and getting nowhere. There may not be a solution to this problem. Hunk!” He yelled pointing at the Samoan, stop telling Lance that Keith is dead or else Lance is going to fuck himself up again.”

“Hey!” Lance interjected only for the finger to switch to him. “You-“ Pidge accentuated, “need to find proof that Keith is still here, do whatever you need. You still think that he’s here and if he it then problem solved! If not, then it’s probably best that we leave it at that.”

“But weren’t’ you the one saying that we could get him back?” Lance whispered, eyes widened by the sudden change in atmosphere.

“Yeah but, now that I’m really thinking about it. He’s already dead Lance.” He says, rubbing his tired eyes and gathering his stuff. “It’s best we leave it at that. For both him, and yourself.”

Pidge had gone serious, his eyes sympathetic and his mouth in a small frown as he shoved his stuff into his bag. Hunk showed more sympathy through a comforting hug that Lance barely remember as both of his friends exited his room. The light clicks of the door brought him back to reality.

He stood up carefully and scanned the room with his eyes. What if Pidge and Hunk were actually right? Maybe Keith wasn’t here anymore. His eyes met the window seat that posed hollow and empty in his eyes. A cold breeze hit him at he made his way over and closed the window. The breeze stopped.

Maybe, Lance truly was alone.

<

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK AND NOT SAD ANYMORE?  
> Hi, it's me and I'm back after... almost 4 months omg I'm a horrible human being.  
> The song is “West Virginia” by the Front Bottoms. This is strangely one of my favorite bands and I keep referencing this song I think it’s a problem. In some drafts I have for other fics this song is in it, but I felt like it fit here pretty seamlessly… no clue what I’m writing anymore. This fic got to real for me because recently feelings have g gotten me so fucked up it’s not even funny. But I'm fine now! : )  
> Also… haha… sorry about insulting Steven king. I’m very passionate about my dislike for his writing and no harm to you if you like his works! I just wanted to mess around a little too : )  
> Yall thanks for sticking with me and thanks to SamThySoul whos comment helped me get off my ass and finish this chapter. I love you all and if you ever want to see my the other shit I do on a daily basis go check out my Instagram @terrariumtea (aka my cosplays haha) Have a good day and again thank you!"

**Author's Note:**

> I try to get chapters out as soon as I can with a minimum of 4000 words because I love you guys.  
> If I randomly don't update after an excessive amount of time you have my permission to spam my inbox : )
> 
> Also please make fanart of this if you do I'll love you forever. I really want to see fanart of the chaos in Lance's room. (If you do make fanart link it to me in the comments section and ill put it in the next chapter and the chapter it goes with : ) ) 
> 
> -RANDOM DISCLAIMERS/ INFO-  
> -I have zero clue how flight schools work, I tried to look it up but I really couldn't find anything.  
> -You don't have to disclose if someone dies in a house when you are selling it, so that's why they don't have much info.  
> -voltron doesn't belong to me but this story does : )
> 
> KUDOS ARE NICE BUT COMMENTS MAKE ME VERY HAPPY AND GIVE ME MOTIVATION  
> Love ya'll have a good morning/night/evening/ <3


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